THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


LINK  IN  THE  CIIAIN 


APOSTOLIC  SUCCESSION; 


OR, 


THE     CRIMES 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA. 


And  upon  her  forehead  was  a  name  written,  Mystery,  Babylon  the  Great,  the 
mother  of  harlots  and  abominations  of  the  earth.  And  I  saw  the  woman  drunken 
with  the  blood  of  the  saints,  and  with  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  of  Jesus.  *  *  * 
*  *  *  *  I  will  tell  thee  the  mystery  of  the  woman,  and  of  the  beast  that  car- 
rieth  her. — REVELATION  xvn. 


BOSTON: 
E.    W.    HINKS    &    CO. 

1854. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 

E.    W.    HINKS    &    Co., 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts!. 


&  J)  t  a  CEJ  o  rfe, 

A 
EEVELATION  OF  THE  BORGIA8, 

IS   DEDICATED   TO 

ARCHBISHOP      HUQHES, 


(£Urnal  Otumitg! 


H   THE   HOPE  THAT   IT   WILL   BK   INSTRUMENTAL   IS    AWAKENING   AMERICANS 
TO   THEIR  DUTY,   AND   IX .  FORMING   A   BULWARK   OF   DEFENCE   AGAINST 
FOREIGN  AND  PAPAL  AGGRE33ION  AKODND  THE  RIGHTS  OF  ALL 

PROTESTANT  AMERICANS. 


1608887 


PREFACE. 


I  WISH  every  reader  of  this  book  to  know  my  purpose  in 
writing  it.  My  object  must  not  be  misunderstood.  I  regard 
the  church  of  Rome  as  a  thousand-headed  hydra,  each  head 
nurtured  to  its  present  fulness  by  a  thousand  crimes !  I  look 
upon  it  as  a  festering  hell  on  earth,  beneath  whose  seeming 
piety  and  sanctimoniousness  are  enacted  scenes  of  blood  and 
cruelty  more  revolting  than  any  ever  witnessed  in  the  ORIGINAL 
Pandemonium !  I  regard  it  as  a  hideous  reptile,  that  has  at- 
tained its  present  massive  proportions  through  the  sufferance 
of  those  who  should  have  crushed  it  in  the  germ,  and  only  waits 
for  an  auspicious  hour  to  unmask  in  all  its  deformity,  yet 
with  a  vigor  and  power  that  shall  shake  worlds  from  their 
foundations !  I  look  upon  it  as  a  terrible  guillotine,  whoae 
blade  is  every  moment  growing  wider  and  wider,  sharper  and 
sharper,  and  is  now  only  suspended  in  silence  and  darkness, 
that  it  may  grow  large  enough  to  destroy  Liberty  and  Protest- 
antism at  one  blow ! 

And  such  a  damnable  compound  of  all  that  is  hellish,  atro- 
cious, gigantic,  and  terribly  significant  of  a  bloody  future^  is 
the  CHURCH  OF  ROME  ! 

The  time  has  come  when  all  Americans  who  love  their  coun- 
try must  awaken  to  the  nature  of  the  serpents  they  are  nour- 
ishing in  their  bosoms,  or  see  the  heritage  secured  by  the  blood 
of  their  forefathers  pass  out  of  their  hands  forever !  As  time 
rolls  on,  the  tide  of  Papal  aggression  sets  higher  and  higher, 
and  wounded  Liberty  flies  shrieking  back  to  the  borders ! 


Standing  thus  upon  the  shores  of  the  present,  and  looking 
•  back  to  what  have  been  the  achievements  of  Jesuitical  cunning 
and  power,  the  mind  cannot  grasp  at  anything  that  seems  too 
bold  and  hazardous  for  the  emissaries  of  the  church  of  Rome 
to  accomplish.  Emerging  from  the  gloom  and  desolation  of 
the  dark  ages,  —  that  period  when  a  mental  night  seemed 
about  to  enclose  all  mankind  as  in  one  living  grave,  —  the 
principles  of  Catholicism  have  gone  on  spreading  and  increas- 
ing for  centuries,  though  always  directly  antagonistical  to 
civilization,  enlightenment,  the  elevation  of  the  masses,  and 
civil  and  political  liberty.  These  principles  find  their  vitality 
in  the  cunning  and  steady  perseverance  of  an  overwhelming 
priesthood,  whose  every  action  is  governed  by  a  desire  to  swell 
the  resources  of  "  the  church,"  and  make  all  means  subservient 
to  this  single  end.  They  have  planted  their  banner  upon 
nearly  every  portion  of  the  globe,  —  always  establishing  it  in 
blood,  and  sustaining  it  in  tyranny  and  oppression,  —  and 
•wherever  their  sway  predominates,  there  will  the  people  be 
found  existing  under  a  curse  like  that  of  Cain  !  Spain,  Mex- 
ico, the  greater  portion  of  South  America,  and  even  Rome 
itself,  are  all  living  examples  of  the  deadly  evils  that  are  born 
of  Papal  supremacy.  Ignorance,  superstition,  and  inertness, 
are  the  leading  characteristics  of  a  people  ruled  by  the  priest- 
hood ;  and  hence  their  value  to  themselves  and  their  God  is 
lost  in  the  bonds  of  servility  that  strip  them  of  their  man- 
hood, and  make  them  but  automatons  that  are  entirely  sub- 
ject to  their  master  minds  —  the  Jesuits  ! 

But  by  such  means  —  the  exercise  of  the  assuming  knowl- 
edge of  the  few  over  the  submissive  ignorance  of  the  many  — 
has  the  church  of  Rome  built  up  a  mine  that  any  instant 
threatens  to  destroy  all  things  antagonistic  to  itsjlf.  It  has 
attained  an  influence  as  mighty  and  universal  as  it  will  one 
day  be  deadly,  should  circumstances  ever  warrant  it  safety  and 
success  in  throwing  off  the  mask  of  secretness  and  inertness 


PREFACE.  VII 

which  hag  rested  upon  its  blood-begrimmed  features  so  Ion 
It  has  woven  a  net  around  the  world  that  is  gradually  securin 
all  things,  little  and  great,  in  its  meshes,  and  slowly  drawing 
them  into  the  dominion  and  beneath  the  authority  of  the 
"Mother  Church."  It  has  caused  millions  and  millions  of 
beings,  of  all  ages  and  sexes,  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  to  have 
one  soul,  one  mind,  one  will,  —  and  that  one  subject  to  the 
wishes  of  the  Pope,  as  expressed  through  his  bishops  and 
priests.  It  has  originated  and  established  the  most  elaborate 
and  extensive  consolidation  of  mind  to  one  object  that  ever 
was  or  can  be  originated  and  established,  unless  upon  the 
foundation  of  AMERICANISM  IN  AMERICA  ;  and  the  result  is,  that 
the  Roman  Catholic  church  is  the  most  tremendous  engine  of 
social  and  political  power  that  has  been  brought  into  existence 
since  the  world  began  —  an  engine  of  the  greatest  magnitude 
and  of  the  most  complex  order,  yet  one  whose  every  portion 
is  so  carefully  and  systematically  managed  that  centuries  may 
pass  away  before  a  single  vibration  can  come  unlocked  for. 

And  yet  Americans  will  sleep  on,  as  if  they  knew  not  that 
their  rights  and  liberties,  and  privileges  AS  Americans,  are 
being  daily  and  hourly  encroached  upon  at  a  rate  that  threat- 
ens to  soon  strip  them  of  all ! 

Since  the  commencement  of  the  present  century,  an  almost 
total  change  has  been  wrought  in  the  political  condition  of  the 
world,  which  is  mostly  attributable  to  the  spread  of  Catholi- 
cism over  new  grounds,  and  the  strengthening  of  it  in  the  old. 
The  greater  portion  of  this  vast  change  has  been  wrought  in 
the  United  States,  during  the  last  twenty-five  years.  The  good 
old  principles  of  republicanism  and  Protestantism  that  animated 
the  heroes  of  the  revolution  have  been  gradually  crushed  out, 
and  their  places  usurped  by  those  of  a  decidedly  opposite  na- 
ture ;  until  no  political  movement  can  be  made  without  its  being 
more  or  less  influenced  towards  an  evil  end  by  the  adherents  of 
the  Romish  church,  who  have,  as  before  observed,  in  substance, 


Till  PREFACE. 

gained  a  sure  footing  and  an  enormous  influence  in  the  United 
States,  through  the  sufferance  of  Americans  !  Not  a  day  nor 
an  hour  passes  in  which  some  example  of  the  power  and  des- 
potism of  the  Jesuitical  leaders  in  America  is  not  hurled  in 
the  face  of  the  descendants  of  the  cotemporaries  and  fellow- 
patriots  of  the  immortal  Washington  !  Not  a  day  passes 
•without  beholding  the  shackles  that  now  fetter  American  lib- 
erty closer  drawn  around  it,  and  bidding  fair  to  soon  become 
riveted  in  a  manner  that  will  effectually  prevent  all  attempts 
to  throw  them  off!  Not  a  day  passes  that  some  new  insult 
and  indignity  is  not  offered  to  the  noble  few  who  dare  to  come 
out  and  say,  "  WE  ARE  AMERICANS  !"  Not  a  day  passes  that 
does  not  behold  hundreds  of  emigrants,  sunken  in  the  lowest 
depths  of  poverty,  jgnorance  and  superstition,  landing  on  our 
shores  from  the  Old  World,  knowing  but  one  will,  and  seek- 
ing the  advancement  of  but  one  purpose,  and  that  combined 
will  and  purpose  that  of  the  disciples  of  Ignatius  Loyola  and 
Alexander  Borgia  !  Not  a  day  passes  that  is  not  marked  by 
the  Papal  powers  in  America  with  some  new  step  towards  the 
general  establishment  of  Papal  rule  in  the  United  States,  and 
the  complete  demolition  of  patriotism,  Protestantism  and  lib- 
erty !  Not  a  day  passes  that  is  not  polluted  with  plots  and 
daring  schemes  against  the  very  existence  of  the  Union  ;  not 
an  hour  in  which  some  new  additions  are  not  given  to  the  re- 
sources of  the  Catholic  church  ! 

Such  being  the  case,  every  American  who  is  worthy  of  the 
name  cannot  fail  of  seriously  considering  what  is  to  be  the 
ending  of  this  peculiar  state  of  affairs.  It  will  be  blood, 
sooner  or  later  —  blood!  In  every  portion  of  the  world  where 
the  Catholic  church  has  gained  a  footing,  it  has  not  resigned 
it  without  bloodshed ;  nor  will  it  forego  its  advancement  by 
the  same  means.  To  attain  by  blood,  and  retain  by  the  same 
means,  is  the  greatest  element  of  its  success.  Its  power  in 
America  has  arrived  at  a  point  where  it  will  neither  yield 


PREFACE.  IX 

what  it  has,  nor  be  content  without  grasping  for  more  ;  and 
this  feeling  will  prepare  the  way  for  a  feud  between  two  great 
parties,  which  will  lead  to  the  subjugation  of  one  or  the  other. 
The  disciples  of  the  church  of  Rome,  or  the  descendants  of  the 
revolutionary  patriots,  must  eventually  rule  the  United  States ; 
and  the  time  has  come  when  it  is  a  question  for  serious  con- 
sideration whether  it  shall  be  ruled  by  us  or  them. 

I  am  not  one  who  has  a  penchant  for  prophesying  evil,  nor 
for  creating  an  alarm  when  there  is  not  any  danger.  I  have 
drawn  my  conclusions  on  this  subject  from  a  critical  analyza- 
tion  of  the  motives  and  principles  that  have  been  the  life  of 
the  Romish  church  since  the  days  of  the  Borgias.  Wherever 
it  has  acquired  even  a  moderate  degree  of  power,  it  has  left  a 
track  of  blood.  Wherever  its  supremacy  has  been  such  as  to 
warrant  the  experiment,  it  has  been  a  harbinger  of  destruc- 
tion, death  and  desolation,  to  all  who  have  ventured  to  oppose 
it  by  word  or  deed.  And  such  it  will  ever  be,  —  such  it  will 
finally  be  in  America,  should  its  strength  ever  be  so  over- 
whelming as  to  make  this  end  one  easy  of  accomplishment, 
which  God  forbid ! 

It  is  believed  that  Americans  are  not  sufficiently  aware  of 
the  nature  of  the  church  of  Rome  to  treat  its  modern  develop- 
ments with  a  proper  seriousness  ;  and  hence  this  work  is  writ- 
ten. It  is  believed  that  its  claim  to  be  considered  the  church, 
and  the  only  legitimate  church  of  the  Messiah,  has  not 
been  considered  in  a  manner  that  does  justice  to  its  preten- 
sions. It  is  br  'ieved  that  the  mysteries  and  iniquities  of  ita 
secret  tribunals  have  not  been  explained  as  elaborately  as  is 
desirable  for  the  advancement  of  humanity  and  Protestantism. 
It  is  also  believed  that  the  character  of  the  men  who.  have 
filled  the  Papal  chair,  and  are  now  worshipped  as  saints,  and 
as  the  successors  of  St.  Peter  in  the  legitimate  order  of  apos- 
tolic succession,  has  never  been  revealed  to  the  world  in  a  style 
as  distinct  and  highly-colored  as  the  subject  is  worthy  of ;  and 


hence  I  have  taken  one  name,  one  career,  from  the  list,  for  the 
material  of  this  story,  —  that  of  the  notorious  and  infamous 
robber,  assassin,  seducer,  incestuous  libertine,  AND  POPE  —  Alex- 
ander Borgia  ! 

From  his  career  of  crime  and  infamy  it  is  my  purpose  to 
show  what  corruption  and  pollution  lies  festering  at  the  heart 
of  the  Catholic  church.  Alexander  Borgia  is  boasted,  by  "  all 
good  Catholics,"  as  one  of  those  it  is  their  delight  to  consider 
noble  leaders  of  their  church ;  but  never  was  earth  polluted 
by  the  existence  of  a  more  depraved  and  crime-stained  monster 
in  the  shape  of  man.  His  name  was  written  iinperishably  on 
the  age  in  which  he  lived,  in  characters  of  blood.  History  has 
set  him  down  as  a  mark  for  the  execration  and  loathing  of  all 
mankind  ;  and  yet  we  are  told,  by  the  most  sapient  disciples 
of  the  church  of  Rome,  that  this  man  ranks  as  one  of  the 
apostolic  successors  of  St.  Peter  ! 

The  chief  object  of  this  work  will  be  to  show  his  claims  to 
that  honor,  and  to  reveal  the  general  evils  that  were  then,  and 
are  now,  incorporated  in  the  religion  (?  ?)  of  which  he  was, 
and  is,  a  loudly-vaunted  representative  !  If  the  reader  finds 
him  painted,  not  as  a  man,  but  as  a  fiend  in  human  semblance, 
breeding  vice  and  crime  in  a  half-benighted  world,  they  will 
remember  that  this  feature  is  a  matter  of  history  ! 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK    FIRST. 

I.  —  LUCHETIA   BORGIA, 13 

II. THE   MASK   OK   ST.    PETER'S, 18 

HI. THE    DEATH-WARRANT, 21 

IV. THE   REVEL   AND    DISCOVERY, 23 

V. THE   WARNING,        27 

VI. THE    MEETING    OF   THE   CARDINALS, 30 

VII. ALEXANDEK    BORGIA, 83 

VIII. FEARFUL   REVELATIONS, 87 

IX. THE    OFFER   AND    REFUSAL, 39 

X. THE   TERRIBLE   PROMISE, 42 

BOOK    SECOND. 

I. C.SSAR    BORGIA, 46 

II. THE   PLOT  DEEPENS 48 

HI. THE    WEIRD   9I3TERS,       • 61 

IV. THE    RESOLUTION,        64 

V.  —  LUCRETIA  BORGIA'S  FIRST  ASSASSINATION, 66 

VI. THE    ESCAPE 69 

VII. LA   BELLE    FLORETTA, 62 

VTII.  —  THE   PARTING, 65 

IX. A  DEED   OF    BLOOD, 67 

X. THE    MYSTERY    DEEPENS, 69 

XI. REVENGE    THWARTED, 71 

XII. TERRIBLE   REVELATIONS, 73 

BOOK    THIRD. 

I. A    POPE'S    OPINION    OF    HIMSELF    AND   ROMANISM,       .     .  76 

IL— NEW   MYSTERIES   AND   DEEP   PLOTTING 79 


XH  CONTENTS. 

III. THE   FINAL  RESOLVE, 81 

IV. THE  SECRET   CONCLAVE, 84 

V. THE   FEARFUL   DISCOVEEY, 87 

VI.  —  BORGIA'S  CBUELTT 89 

VII.  —  DELANO, 91 

VIII. RELEASE   OF   THE   CAPTIVES 94 

IX. FEARS    AND    HOPES, 97 

X. THE    ARREST, 100 

XI. HORRORS   OF   THE    INQUISITION, 103 

XII.— PUT  TO   THE  TORTURE, 112 

BOOK    FOURTH. 

L DARK   PLOTTINGS, 118 

II. THE   APPROACHING   MARRIAGE, 121 

IIL THE   ASSASSINATION, 123 

IV. THE   COUNCIL 129 

V. THE    MYSTERY  OF   THE   MASK, 131 

VL FURTHER   PLOTTINGS, 136 

VII.  FATHER    JANZEN, 137 

VlIL THE   SURPRISE, 139 

BOOK    FIFTH. 

I. THE   POISONED   WINE, 143 

II. THE   MASK    IN    PERIL, 145 

HI. ONLY    ANOTHER   VICTIM, 146 

IV. THE   MASK    ARRESTED 150 

V. THE  DENOUEMENT, 151 

VL A    CATHOLIC    PRIEST     ON     CELIBACY   AND    AURICULAR 

CONFESSION 154 

VII. THE   TEMPTATION   AND   FALL, U,0 

VIII. THE  MARRIAGE,        163 

IX. THE   POISON 164 

X.  —  THE  MADMAN'S  MYSTERY, 167 

XL — CONCLUSION,  . 169 


BOOK    FIRST. 


LUCRETIA    BORGIA. 

ROME  !  A  pleasant  moonlight  evening.  The  hour  — 
nine.  The  scene  —  a  splendidly-furnished  apartment,  in 
the  palace  of  the  Borgias.  The  only  occupant  of  the 
room  was  an  almost  gloriously  beautiful  maiden,  of 
seventeen  summers,  with  hair  as  dark  as  night,  and  eyes 
as  bright  as  the  peerless  diadems  of  her  own  native  clime  ! 
And  she  —  she  was  Lucretia  Borgia  ! 

There  were  no  shades  of  evil  on  her  face  —  no  signs  of 
the  seal  always  impressed  by  guilt  upon  its  followers  — 
nor  had  her  heart  become  the  abode  of  aught  that  was 
foul  and  polluting.  Her  eyes  were  bright  and  sparkling, 
yet  full  of  the  gentleness  of  love  ;  her  face  was  wreathed 
with  a  quiet  expression  of  happiness  ;  and,  as  she  reclined 
upon  a  luxurious  lounge,  and  gave  way  to  the  pleasing 
fancies  that  had  come  in  showers  over  her  soul,  there  could 
not  have  been  a  more  perfect  picture  of  female  beauty  and 
innocence  than  she  presented. 

"  0  !  what  a  pleasure  it  -is  to  live,"  she  murmured,  at 

length,  in  a  voice  of  the  most  exquisite  sweetness,  "  while 

life  is  bright  and  beautiful,  and  love  is  young !    It  is  a 

glorious  era  in  life  to  realize  that  the  heart,  perhaps  all 

2 


14  THE   CRIMES   OF 

lonely  and  desolate  before,  is  gradually  entwining  around 
a  cherished  object,  and  drawing  its  purest  happiness  from  a 
kindred  soul  —  a  glorious  era,  to  have  a  consciousness,  in 
waking  thoughts  and  in  the  fantasies  of  dreams,  that  there 
is  one  mind,  one  heart,  to  share  our  joys  and  sorrows,  and 
roll  back  the  clouds  from  the  horizon  of  life  !  And  this 
delightful  era  is  now  mine !  0,  Mercado,  what  bliss  is 
mine  when  my  thoughts  are  on  thee  !  What  raptures  fill 
my  soul,  as  my  fervent  hopes  paint  the  future  as  an  end- 
less heaven,  reaching  far  away,  through  paths  made  lovely 
and  fragrant  by  the  most  gorgeous  flowers — all  of  which 
shall  be  shared  with  me  by  thee,  while  our  days  glide 
smoothly  on,  and  naught  but  love  and  happiness  shall  pre- 
side over  the  weaving  of  a  single  page  in  our  book  of 
life  !  " 

As  the  lovely  woman  paused  in  her  rhapsody,  a  liveried 
servant  entered. 

"  Donna  Lucretia,"  he  said,  "  there  is  an  old  woman,  a 
fortune-teller,  in  the  reception-room,  who  desires  to  be  ad- 
mitted to  your  presence." 

"Show  her  in,"  was  the  reply.  "A  fortune-teller! 
She  will  read  in  my  face  that  I  am  in  love ;  she  will  per- 
ceive that  my  passion  is  reciprocated;  and  then  she  will 
promise  me  long  years  of  happiness  with  Mercado,  and 
crown  the  hopes  of  this  hour " 

She  paused,  for  the  fortune-teller  had  entered.  She  was 
an  old,  very  old  woman,  with  wrinkled  visage,  and  attenu- 
ated form.  She  was  clad  in  a  flowing  mantle,  that  added 
to  the  wild  ness  of  her  appearance.  Her  eyes  were  deeply 
sunken  in  their  sockets,  and  gleamed  out  from  beneath  her 
o'er-hanging  brows,  like  funeral  lights  from  some  dark 
cavern  in  the  bowels  of  earth.  Her  dark  features  were 


ALEXANDEB   BORGIA.  15 

wreathed  with  a  stern  yet  mournful  expression,  as  she 
paused  before  the  young  beauty,  leaning  upon  a  cane. 

Lucretia  Borgia  started,  and  uttered  an  exclamation  of 
surprise,  as  she  turned  and  beheld  the  countenance  of  her 
visitor. 

"  Mud  Seta  here !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  a  shudder  crept 
over  her  form. 

"  Ay,  mad  Seta  !  "  and  the  weird  woman  laughed,  — 
"  yet  is  not  this  very  madness,  that  is  so  reviled,  a  glori- 
ous gift,  that  does  away  with  the  narrow  limits  in  which 
the  sane  mind  is  confined  ?  The  mad  see  strange  sights, 
and  hear  strange  things,  that  are  not  known  to  the  common 
mind.  The  veil  is  removed,  and  they  penetrate  mysteries 
at  which  the  common  herd  cannot  even  grasp.  Mad ! 
Yes,  yes,  girl ;  but  I  have  seen  sights  worthy  of  a  deeper 
madness  than  mine.  I  've  seen  a  living  hell,  disgorging 
fiends  in  showers  upon  a  stricken  world,  and  on  a  throne 
that 's  red  with  blood  have  seen  the  choicest  of  Satan's 
master  spirits  —  ay,  Alexander  Borgia  !  " 

"  Peace,  woman  !  This  Alexander  Borgia,  whom  thou 
speakest  so  lightly  of,  is  my  father  !  " 

"  And  such  a  father  !  Can  a  serpent  father  doves  —  a 
devil  be  a  kin  to  angels  ?  I  tell  thee,  girl,  thou  knowest 
not  what  thou  art  saying.  Thy  father !  Thou  hadst 
better  claim  relationship  to  Satan  himself!  " 

"  Hold  !  or  he  shall  hear  and  resent  thy  words  !  " 

"Dost  thou,  too,  threaten  me?  But  go  and  call  him. 
Already  has  he  warned  me  never  to  cross  the  threshold 
of  this  palace  —  but  I  am*here,  and  one  word  from  you 
will  call  those  who  do  not  hold  his  orders  lightly.  Will 
you  call  ?  " 


16  THE   CRIMES   OF 

"  Not  if  thou  wilt  hold  thy  peace  in  reference  to  my 
father." 

"  Enough.  Now,  thy  fortune ! "  and  the  old  woman 
raised  the  maiden's  hand.  Earnestly  she  looked  at  it,  for 
several  minutes,  without  uttering  a  word ;  yet  a  strange 
flush  appeared  upon  her  face  as  she  regarded  it.  The  ob- 
servation ended,  she  arose  and  turned  upon  her  heel,  and 
was  passing  from  the  apartment  without  uttering  a  word, 
when  Donna  Lucretia  called  her  back. 

"  Stay,  good  Seta  —  you  have  not  told  me  the  fate  you 
have  read ! " 

"  Nor  will  I !  "  and  again  the  weird  woman  moved  on. 
Donna  Lucretia  detained  her. 

"  I  see  by  thy  looks  thou  hast  read  something  of  import- 
ance. Give  me  thy  knowledge  before  you  go." 

"  Thou  hast  told  me  not  to  speak  it !  " 

"How?" 

"  I  speak  of  Alexander  Borgia,  or  not  at  all !  "  and 
again  the  fortune-teller  essayed  to  move  on. 

"  Ah,  this  is  some  idle  whim  —  but  I  will  humor  it. 
Be  seated,  good  Seta,  and  tell  me  what  thou  readest  from 
my  hand ;  "  and,  despite  her  habitual  self-possession,  a  look 
of  anxiety  appeared  on  her  face. 

"  I  read  a  tale  it  were  not  well  to  speak  in  detail  —  yet, 
beware  of  Alexander  Borgia  ! '' 

"Woman,"  exclaimed  Donna  Lucretia,  sternly,  "you 
trifle  with  me.  You  presume  upon  my  forbearance,  or  my 
womanly  weakness.  If  gold  is  thy  object  in  visiting  me, 
take  this,  and  trouble  me  with  no  more  of  this  mum- 
mery ! " 

"  No,  no,  —  I  do  not  want  thy  gold.  I  came  not  here 
for  gain,  but  to  warn  thee  of  evils.  A  cloud  is  hanging 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  17 

over  thy  head  —  a  storm  will  burst  from  it,  and  scatter 
your  hopes  like  chaff  before  the  wind.  Again,  I  say, 
beware  of  Alexander  Borgia  !  " 

Donna  Lucretia  subdued  the  resentment  aroused  by  the 
repetition  of  the  disagreeable  words,  and  listened  atten- 
tively as  the  old  woman  continued  : 

"  You  love  a  noble  young  man,  and  are  beloved  by  him. 
But  there  is  one  —  ay,  your  father,  girl,  as  you  are 
pleased  to  call  him  —  who  looks  upon  you  both  with  feel- 
ings that  bode  neither  of  you  any  good.  When  next  thou 
seest  Mercado,  warn  him  that  danger  is  hovering  in  his 
steps ;  tell  him  to  be  on  his  guard,  sleeping  and  waking, 
if  he  would  escape  the  machinations  under  foot  against 
him." 

"  What  mean  you  ?  " 

"Hist!  I  hear  the  sound  of  voices  in  the  street — I 
hear  swords  clashing  in  the  air.  Ah,  ha  !  go  to  yon  case- 
ment and  gaze  forth,  if  thou  wouldst  have  thy  answer." 

Donna  Lucretia  instantly  obeyed. 

"  I  see  a  gathering  of  people  —  I  see  two  persons  fight- 
ing withdrawn  swords!  Strangers?  No!  One  of  them 
is  —  it  is  Mercado  !  " 

The  weird  woman  laughed. 

"My  lover  engaged  in  a  street  brawl — a  duel,  per- 
haps !  Ah,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  " 

"  It  means  that  he  has  been  attacked  by  a  ruffian,  in  the 
pay  of  your  father.  But  do  not  fear;  Mercado  has  a 
brave  heart,  and  a  stout  arm,  and  will  come  safely  off! " 

"Thou  art  right  —  he  does;  but  see,  he  has  stricken 
his  enemy  to  the  earth,  and  is  now  coming  this  way.  I 
shall  see  him ;  Heaven  grant  that  he  may  not  have  re- 
ceived injury  in  the  encounter  !  " 


18  THE   CRIMES   OF 

"  He  must  not  come  here.  I  will  cross  his  path,  and 
warn  him  to  shun  the  presence  of  the  Borgias,  as  he  would 
a  den  of  vipers  !  But,  if  thou  wouldst  see  him,  he  will  be 
in  my  humble  home,  half  an  hour  hence.  Wilt  come?" 

"  I  will." 

"  T  is  well ;  "  and,  without  another  word,  the  old  woman 
hastened  from  the  apartment. 

"  I  must  know  the  truth  of  these  suspicions,"  soliloquized 
Donna  Lucretia,  as  soon  as  she  was  alone.  "Heaven  grant 
that  Mercado  may  not  be  harmed  —  for  all  my  hopes  are 
centred  in  him ;  and,  should  they  ever  be  crushed,  eternal 
night  will  be  the  inheritance  of  Lucretia  Borgia  !  " 


II. 

THE   MASK    OF    ST.    PETER'S. 

THE  steps  of  St.  Peter's.  Standing  in  the  shadow  of 
one  of  the  massive  pillars  was  a  broad-shouldered,  power- 
ful-looking man,  wearing  a  large  cloak  around  his  form, 
and  a  black  mask  over  his  countenance.  There  was 
nothing  particularly  repulsive  in  the  appearance  of  the 
mask;  but  —  and  it  seemed  singular — all  who  gazed 
thereon  shuddered,  and  crept  noiselessly  away,  looking 
fearfully  behind  them,  as  if  they  had  seen  some  horrid 
vision.  There  must  have  been  something  horrible  in  the 
character  the  possessor  of  that  mask  had  acquired,  to 
make  him  so  carefully  shunned  by  all  who  chanced  to  pass 
in  that  vicinity  —  and,  indeed,  there  was. 

An  elderly  man,  clad  in  a  humble  garb,  passed  up  the 
steps,  at  last,  and  paused  before  the  mask.  There  was  no 
fear  expressed  in  his  face,  as  his  eyes  met  those  of  that 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  19 

dreaded  being ;  —  to  the  contrary,  a  look  of  gratification 
appeared  upon  his  flushed  features,  and  he  exclaimed, 

"  Thank  God  !    I  have  found  you  !  " 

"  Indeed  !  And  what  may  you  want  with  the  mask  ?  " 
asked  that  personage,  in  a  deep  voice,  while  his  eyes  roved 
like  lightning  flashes  over  the  form  before  him. 

"  Your  aid.  Thou  art  a  man  whose  power,  for  good  or 
evil,  is  greater  than  that  possessed  by  all  Rome." 

"  You  forget  the  Pope !  "  suggested  the  mask,  with  a 
slight  bow. 

"  No,  I  do  not  forget ;  nor  will  I  retract  my  words  in 
favor  of  the  Pope  —  God's  curse  be  upon  him  !  " 

"  Ah !  "  and  the  mask  started.  "  Why  speak  so  sternly 
of  him  ?  " 

"  Because  he  is  a  villain  !  " 

Again  the  mask  started. 

"  It  is  not  well  for  you  to  speak  thus  boldly.  Walls 
have  ears,  it  is  said,  and  Rome  has  spies  more  useful  than 
walls.  You  had  better  curb  this  bold  spirit,  or  it  may 
lead  you  into  difficulty." 

"I  care  not.  What  is  life  to  me?  A  curse,  signor  — 
a  curse !  I  have  been  most  foully  wronged,  and  have 
come  to  secure  thy  aid  for  redress.  Shall  I  have  it?  " 

"  Always,  in  a  good  cause.     But  tell  me  thy  wrongs?" 

"  My  daughter,  signor,  —  the  idol  of  my  heart,  —  has 

been  seized  by  the  minions  of  Pope  Alexander  VI.;  and  is 

confined  a  prisoner  in    his  private  residence,  as  I  h*ve 

.  learned  from  a  note  from  her,  written  in  her  blood,  which 

she  bribed  a  troubadour  to  bring  to  me !  " 

The  mask  started  more  violently  than  before,  and  turned 
towards  the  old  man. 

"And  your  daughter's  name  is  —  " 


20  THE   CRIMES   OP 

"  She  is  called  La  Belle  Floretta  !  " 

"  And  you — " 

"  I  am  Michael  Delano  —  her  father  !  " 

The  mask  uttered  an  involuntary  exclamation  of  sur- 
prise. 

"  By  Heavens !  "  he  muttered,  sotto  voce,  "  it  is  singular 
that  he  should"*  come  to  me  for  redress  —  he  !  the  very 
father  of  my  victim  !  " 

"  What  say  you  ?  " 

"  That  I  would  know  how  I  can  be  of  service  to  you." 

"  O,  siguor,  any  movement  of  thine  in  my  favor  will  be 
of  invaluable  service  to  me.  In  all  Rome,  there  is  not  a 
man  as  dreaded  as  thou  —  not  one  who  has  the  liberty  and 
authority  that  is  given  to  thee.  Thou  canst  go  every- 
where, and  do  anything  that  it  is  your  pleasure  to  do. 
Thou  hast  the  power  to  restore  my  child  to  me  ;  —  0,  have 
mercy  on  a  poor  old  father,  and  bring  her  back  to,  my 
arms." 

"  And  dost  thou  think  that  I  can  baulk  the  Pope  him- 
self, in  his  designs  OH  your  daughter  ?  " 

"  I  never  thought  of  the  danger  —  of  the  greatness  of 
the  attempt  ^to  regain  my  child.  But,  canst  thou  not  do 
something  fq[r  me  ?  —  canst  thou  not  make  one  effort  for 
her  escape  fi|>m  the  monster  who  has  torn  her  from  me  ?  " 

"  Perhapsl the  mask  can  do  more  for  thee  than  thou 
thinkest.  Bat,  hist !  There  comes  one  who  has  business 
of  importance  with  me.  Stand  thou  aside  for  a  moment, 
while  I  learn  the  object  of  this  visit." 

The  old  man  obeyed,  retiring  to  the  shade  cast  by  an- 
other pillar.  As  he  did  so,  a  man,  disguised  with  a  huge 
beard,  and  wearing  a  blood-red  cloak,  ascended  the  steps, 
bowed  three  times,  and  Banded  a  packet  of  papers  to  the 

Si 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  21 

mask  —  then  hastened  away  in  the  direction  from  whence 
he  came,  without  speaking  a  word. 

"  This  visit  bodes  no  good  work,"  soliloquized  old  De- 
lano, coming  forward,  "  for  that  personage  in  the  red 
cloak  is  the  messenger  of  the  cardinals  !  " 


III. 

THE   DEATH-WARRANT. 

THE  mask  did  not  reply.  He  had  broken  the  seal  of  the 
packet,  and  moved  out  of  the  shadow  of  the  pillar,  so  that 
the  rays  of  the  moon  fell  upon  the  paper  he  held  in  his 
hand,  and  enabled  him  to  read  it.  For  a  moment  he  was 
occupied  in  perusing  the  missive ;  then  he  crushed  'it  in 
his  hand,  and  muttered,  as  he  turned  toward  Delano, 

"  Fool,  fool ! " 

"  Why  lookest  thou  so  strange  at  me  ?  —  and  why  these 
epithets  ?  " 

"  Art  thou  not  a  fool  ?  "  asked  the  mask,  with  a  fierce- 
ness of  emphasis  that  startled  his  listener. 

"  To  the  best  of  my  belief,  I  am  not." 

"  Then,  why  hast  thou  been  here  and  there,  like  a  bab- 
bling school-boy,  making  known  the  loss  of  thy  daughter, 
and  publicly  charging  the  Pope  with  having  been  con- 
cerned in  her  abduction?  " 

"  Have  I  done  so  ?  Then  is  the  truth  made  known. 
Alexander  VI.  has  robbed  me  of  my  daughter  —  I  have 
reported  nothing  but  the  truth." 

"  But  has  thy  shallow  brain  never  cautioned  thee  that 
it  is  not  always  a  course  of  safety,  or  policy,  to  tell  the 
truth  ?  It  seems  that  it  has  not,  or  else  you  would  not 


22  THE   CRIMES  OF 

have  made  such  a  foolish  outcry,  but  held  your  peace,  and 
submitted  —  as  is  always  best — to  an  evil  that  cannot 
be  remedied.!' 

"  But  this  wrong  must  be  remedied,  —  my  child  must 
be  rescued.  Thou  hast  promised  thy  aid  —  thou  wilt  not 
withdraw  it  ?  " 

"  0,  fool,  fool !  You  have  b'een  the  deviser  of  your  own 
ruin.  Know  you  not  that  your  reports  have  been  carried 
to  the  Pope ;  that  your  case  has  be_en  examined  by  the 
cardinals,  by  him  convened;  that  it  has  been  decided 
that  you  are  a  dangerous  man,  a  spreader  of  evil  rumors 
and  seditions ;  that  sentence  of  death  has  been  passed 
upon  you ;  that  the  messenger  of  the  cardinals  has 
brought  me  your  death-warrant ;  and  that  the  mask  of 
St.  Peter's  is  doomed  to  be  your  executioner  !  " 

Delano  staggered  beneath  this  accumulation  of  horrors, 
and  his  face  became  deathly  pale. 

"  I  see,"  he  gasped.  "  I  was  a  fool  to  brave  so  terri- 
ble a  power  as  that  of  Alexander  Borgia  J  But  I  will  not 
complain  —  death  will  be  a  mercy.  Do  thy  work  when 
and  where  thou  wilt." 

"  And  yet,"  muttered  the  mask,  "  I  can  hardly  realize 
that  I  hold  the  warrant  for  his  death.  The  cardinals  have 
moved  in  this  matter  with  greater  haste  than  I  expected. 
I  am  sorry  for  it ;  I  do  not  desire  Delano's  death.  Can 
the  warrant  be  set  aside  ?  Not  without  making  myself 
known  ;  and  that  will  not  do  —  never,  never  !  " 

"  I  am  ready  for  the  sacrifice,"  continued  the  old  man, 
—  "  yet  before  I  die  let  me  call  down  a  curse  upon  the 
one  who  "has  wronged  me  so  deeply,  who  has  destroyed 
my  daughter.  Thou,  God,  that  seest  all  things,  be  thou 
the  avenger  of  one  whose  power  for  revenge  is  lost !  May 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  23 

thy  most  terrible  curse  rest,  now  and  forever,  upon  that 
fiend  in  human  guise,  Alexander  Borgia —  "  , 

"  Hold !  "  exclaimed  the  mask,  with  much  agitation,  as 
he  seized  the  arm  of  the  old  man.  "  Thou  knowest  not 
what  thou  art  saying.  Though  here  I  hold  a  warrant  for 
thy  death,  thy  life  shall  not  be  taken.  Go  with  me ;  I 
will  find  thee  a  place  of  concealment,  where  thou  wilt  be 
safe.  Come  • —  I  would  know  something  of  thy  history. 
I  have  some'  choice  wine  ;  and  over  a  bottle  of  it  we  will 
pass  an  hour  together  in  conversation.  Wilt  go  ?  I  will 
show  thee  the  beauties  and  wonders  of  my  palace,  and  thou 
shalt  sleep  on  down,  and  eat  from  plates  of  silver  !  Wilt 
go?" 

"  Ay,  though  death  were  lurking  in  the  midst  of  such 
enjoyments  as  thou  hast  alluded  to,  I  would  accompany 
thee  !  " 

"  Come  on,  then,  and  thou  shalt  know  more  of  the  mask 
of  St.  Peter's." 


IV. 

THE   REVEL   AND   DISCOVERY. 

HALF  an  hour  later.  The  mask  of  St.  Peter's  and 
Michael  Delano  were  seated  in  an  apartment  of  luxurious 
magnificence,  with  a  bottle  of  wine  before  them,  from 
which  the  old  man,  from  time  to  time,  poured  out  deep 
potations.  The  mask  drank  but  little ;  he  was  evidently 
in  no  humor  for  the  pleasures  that  were  so  new  and  fasci- 
nating to  his  companion. 

"  You  are  a  jolly  'un,"  muttered  the  old  man.  "Must 
be  a  happy  fellow  to  have  such  a  nice  place  to  live  in,  and 


24  THE   CRIMES  OF 

such  capital  wine  as  this.  I  was  never  so  happy  in  my 
life.  You  were  really  very  kind  to  invite  me  here  —  I 
shall  always  be  very  grateful.  But  do  you  live  alone 
here?  I  should  think  you  would  be  lonesome  sometimes 
—  have  a  desire  to  see  the  ladies,  eh  ?  " 

"  0,  I  am  never  without  means  to  make  time  pass 
agreeably,"  said  the  mask,  carelessly,  "  as  you  shall  see." 

As  he  spoke,  he  pressed  his  foot  against  a  knob  elevated 
above  the  floor  beneath  the  table. 

The  room  was  instantly  filled  with  strains  of  delicious 
music,  which  seemed  to  come  from  an  adjoining  apartment. 
It  rose  higher  and  higher,  filling  every  portion  of  the 
room  with  a  thrilling  melody,  that  seemed  to  enchant  the 
old  man,  for  he  remained'  aiotionless,  scarcely  seeming  to 
breathe.  Anon,  it  rose  to .;  a  low  plaintive  strain,  that 
seemed  like  a  dirge,.,  wintering  of  earthly  sorrows,  but 
bearing  consolation  as  'sweet  and  soothing  as  the  breath 
of  heaven  !  Finally,  ii  .deased  —  silence  reigned  as  be- 
fore. With  a  smile,  ,thj&  ^a$k  turned  towards  his  guest. 

"It  is  heavenly,"  he' ibitfrmured.  "With  such  music, 
you  cannot  be  Jonesome." 

"  Listen  !  yoU!liave  not  seen  all,"  was  the  response,  and 
again  the  mask/p'ressed  upon  the  sacred  knob. 

The  foldingkloors  that  formed  one  side  of  the  room 
were  drawn  apart,  disclosing  a  brilliantly-lighted  and 
magnificently-furnished  apartment,  in  which  were  twelve 
or  fifteen  young  and  exceedingly  beautiful  girls,  dressed  in 
fairy-like  garments,  that  revealed  the  peerless  contour  of 
their  exquisitely  voluptuous  forms  in  such.;  a  fascinating 
manner  that  it  would  have  maddened  the  gaze  of  even  an 
anchorite.  For  an  instant,  all  was  hushed ;  then  the  en- 
chanting strains  of  music  were  renewed,  and  those  sylph- 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  25 

like  forms  glided  almost  imperceptibly  over  the  gorgeous 
carpet,  with  waving,  undulating  motion,  with  each  look 
and  gesture  attuned  to  the  emotions  of  love  and  languish- 
ing voluptuousness.  Round  and  round  in  the  giddy  waltz 
sped  those  fairy  forms,  while  the  excited  Delano  watched 
their  every  movement,  and  passed  his  eyes  with  longing 
and  admiration  over  the  glowing  beauties  that  were  so  be- 
witchingly  revealed  to  his  bewildered  gaze.  The  wine  he 
had  imbibed,  together  with  the  music  and  the  enchanting 
sight  before  him,  rendered  him  half  delirious  with  deli- 
cious intoxication.  He  could  not  move  or  speak ;  his 
senses  seemed  to  be  completely  under  the  influence  of  the 
strange  and  startling  scene ;  and  he  gazed  upon  it  like  one 
in  a  dream. 

The  spell  was  broken  by  the  gruff  voice  of  the  mask. 

"  You  seem  to  be  pleased  with  my  means  of  killing 
time,"  he  observed,  with  a  singular  smile. 

"  It  is  glorious.  It  were  easy  to  imagine,  when  gazing 
on  such  a  scene  as  this,  that  the  portals  of  death  were 
passed,  and  heaven  revealed  !  " 

"  Like  you  the  appearance  of  the  ladies  ?  " 

"  Very  much." 

"  Chttase.  One  of  them  shall  be  subject  "to  your  wishes 
—  any  one  of  the  number  you  may  choose  I  " 

The  old  man  looked  upon  them  with  an  expression  of 
bewilderment. 

"There's  the  tall  beauty,  to  the  left— she  is  very 
pretty,"  muttered  the  old  man,  with  flushed  face,  and 
sparkling  eyes.  "  There  's  the  blonde  immediately  in  front 
of  her  —  she  's  also  very  lovely.  Then  there 's  her  com- 
panion, the  graceful  and  pretty  —  Ha  !  my  God  !  what  do 
I  behold?" 


26  THE   CRIMES   OF 

As  the  old  man  uttered  the  startling  exclamation,  he 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and  stood  before  his  companion  per- 
fectly sobered,  but  with  features  as  pale  as  death,  while  his 
limbs  trembled  beneath  him. 

"  God  of  mercy !  what  do  I  behold  ?  La  Belle  Floretta  ! 
My  child,  O,  my  daughter  !  " 

He  would  have  rushed  towards  her,  but  the  strong  arm 
of  the  mask  detained  him,  and  that  personage  quietly  re- 
marked, 

"  Be  seated,  signer  !  It  were  not  well  for  you  to  enter 
there,  among  them  all ;  but  you  can  have  your  choice !  " 

"  Devil !  The  girl  I  would  have  clasped  was  my  own 
child  —  my  lost  Floretta  !  —  I  will  see  her." 

"Nay — that  is  impossible,"  replied  the  mask,  as  he 
again  pressed  the  knob  ;  and  as  quick  as  thought  the  fold- 
ing-doors were  closed  upon  the  bewildering  scene. 

"  Lost,  lost !  "  gasped  the  old  man,  as  he  threw  himself 
frantically  against  the  doors.  "  Demon '  bid  them  be 
parted  again.  My  daughter  is  kept  here  against  her  will 
—  bid  the  doors  open,  or  I  will  break  them  down  ! " 

At  this  moment,  the  reaction  of  the  excitement  over- 
came the  old  man,  and  he  sank  down  in  a  fainting-fit. 
The  mask  rang  a  bell.  It  was  instantly  answereefby  the 
appearance  of  a  servant. 

"  Bear  the  old  man  to  the  inner  chambers,  and  see  that 
he  is  well  attended.  Call  Pireto  to  help  you  remove 
him." 

The  apartment  was  soon  cleared  —  the  mask  was  left 
alone. 

"  The  old  man  shall  die,"  he  muttered,  "  but  not  yet. 
A  thought  has  struck  me  —  he  shall  be  the  means  of  my 
vengeance  on  Floretta,  if  she  still  refuses  compliance  to 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  21. 

my  wishes.  I  have  gained  some  knowledge  of  his  charac- 
ter. He  can  be  influenced  by  wine  and  women ;  and  by 
this  means  shall  he  be  moulded  to  my  will !  Ha,  ha  !  — 
a  noble  thought  —  a  glorious  thought !  Now,  proud  La 
Belle  Floretta  !  beware  how  you  trifle  with  me  !  " 

The  ringing  of  a  bell  suspended  in  the  corner  of  the 
apartment  announced  a  visitor,  as  the  mask  paused.  Ho 
moved  to  a  side-door,  and  opened  it.  A  paper  was  handed 
him,  which  he  speedily  read. 

"  The  cardinals,"  he  muttered,  —  "  to  the  meeting  of 
the  cardinals  !  There  's  more  blood  to  be  shed  ;  I  am  he 
whose  province  it  is  to  do  their  bidding ;  and  yet  how 
those  proud  potentates  of  the  church  would  start  did  they 
but  know  who  the  man  is  that  thus  seems  subject  to  their 
wishes  !  O,  did  they  but  know  me  as  I  know  myself " 

The  mask  resumed  his  cloak  and  dagger,  and  passed 
from  the  apartment,  leaving  the  sentence  unfinished. 


V. 

THE   WARNING. 

THE 'home  of  mad  Seta  —  a  humble,  but  cleanly  and 
well-ordered  abode.  The  old  woman  was  not  alone. 
Lucrctia  Borgia  and  her  lover,  the  gallant  Mercado,  were 
present. 

"  I  must  leave  you,  my  children,  for  a  while,"  said  mad 
Seta,  arising ;  "  but  I  will  soon  return." 

"  But  why  need  you  leave  us?  " 

"Because  I  have  business,"  was  the  reply,  —  "be- 
cause," she  added,  in  a  lower  voice,  "  lovers  do  not  desire 


28  THE   CHIMES   OF 

the  presence  of  a  third  party  at  their  interviews,  espe- 
cially if  that  party  be  children  or  old  women !  " 

With  this,  the  old  woman  hobbled  from  the  room. 

"  O,  Mercado,  what  can  mad  Seta's  warning  mean? 
Surely,  she  would  not  distress  me  with  these  fears,  if  there 
were  no  occasion  for  them.  I  cannot  give  her  credence  — 
cannot  believe  that  my  father  meditates  ill  against  you. 
Why  should  he  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  know.  But  he  is  the  head  of  the  church, 
which  my  death  would  so  much  benefit.  The  immense 
property,  which  is  mine  by  inheritance,  was  so  willed  that 
if  I  die  before  attaining  my  twenty-first  year  the  whole 
of  it  will  go  to  the  revenues  of  the  church  of  Rome.  Now, 
were  the  Holy  Fathers,  and  His  Eminence,  your  father,  to 
be  unscrupulous  in  their  designs,  and  meditate  the  posses- 
sion of  this  wealth,  I  am  well  aware  that  it  would  be .  an 
easy  matter  to  prevent  me  from  reaching  my  twenty-first 
birthday.  You  understand  ?  " 

"  But  I  cannot  believe  that  my  father  would  conspire 
against  your  life.  He  surely  cannot  desire  to  plunge  his 
child  into  the  misery  such  a  deed  would  give  her." 

"  Does  he  know  of  our  love  ?  " 

"  I  think  not.  I  have  never  talked  but  once  with  him 
on  the  subject  of  a  connection  of  this  nature  between  us, 
and  then  I  did  not  let  him  know  how  much  I  think  of 
you." 

"  Not  by  words,  perhaps ;  but  such  love  as  thine  is 
readable  in  every  look  and  every  motion !  0,  dearest 
Lucretia,  if  there  should  be  a  conspiracy  against  us,  and 
by  the  all-powerful  pillars  of  the  church,  we  shall  fall !  " 

The  form  of  the  lovely  woman  heaved  with  emotion  at 
the  thought. 


ALEXANDER    BORGIA.  29 

"  But  not  unavenged,"  she  murmured,  and  her  usual 
silvery  voice  was  husky.  "  If  wrong  is  nieted  out  to  thee, 
—  if  this  love,  so  like  that  of  the  angels,  is  made  the  har- 
binger of  a  curse,  —  if  these  hopes  are  blasted,  this  brain 
seared,  and  the  aspirations  of  this  heart  blotted  out  for- 
ever, —  let  each  and  all  who  are  concerned  look  well  to 
their  souls  ;  for,  by  the  soul  of  a  sainted  mother  in  heaven, 
terrible  shall  be  the  atonement  of  him  who  thus  wrongs 
Lucretia  Borgia ! " 

"  Hush,  hush,  girl ! "  said  a  voice  close  to  her  side. 
Mad  Seta  had  returned,  and  entered  noiselessly,  and  now 
stood  beside  her.  "  It  is  not  well  for  thee  to  talk  of 
vengeance  on  such  men ;  they  are  too  powerful !  " 

"Were  they  gods,  and  do  this  wrong,  heaven  itself 
could  not  shield  them !  "  As  long  as  there  are  brains  to 
plot  and  hands  to  execute,  let  no  one  cross  my  path  and 
blight  my  hopes  ! " 

"  But  they  will  do  it.  I  know  it ;  I  read  it  in  the 
stars,  long  years  ago ;  and  still  I  nightly  read  it,  when 
the  sky  is  not  palled  with  clouds.  They  will  scatter  death 
and  desolation  around  them,  and  make  thy  life  a  curse,  as 
they  have  done  to  others." 

"  You  speak  wildly  to-night,  good  Seta." 

"Wildly?  Ha,  ha!  Have  I  not  had  a  cause  for 
speaking  so  ?  I  've  seen  such  sights  as  few  have  seen,  and 
live  to  weave  their  horrors  in  forms  of  speech.  I  saw  thy 
mother,  child,  the  night  before  she  died.  I  knew  her 
veins  were  full  of  poison  —  that  she  was  doomed  ;  and  .well 
I  knew  —  but  thou  shalt  not  know  it.  The  tale  is  not  for 
ears  like  thine.  I  '11  go  and  breathe  it  to  the  air,  or  howl 
it  to  the  fiends  !  Ha,  ha !  't  is  not  for  such  as  thee  —  not 
for  such  as  thee !  " 
3* 


80  THE    CRIMES   OF 

Donna  Lucrctia  would  have  questioned  her,  but  she  was 
gone. 

And  there  was  a  shade  of  sadness  upon  the  minds  of 
the  lovers,  that  could  not  be  banished.  They  knew  that 
terrible  deeds  had  been  done,  when  there  was  less  incentive 
than  now ;  and  could  not  help  but  feel  that  there  was  a 
dark  and  dangerous  future  before  them. 

Yet,  even  in  such  an  hour,  there  was  one  star  that 
shone  upon  them  from  the  stormy  heavens  — 

The  star  of  Hope  ! 

Who  has  not  seen  it  —  who  has  not  looked  to  it  with 
eagerness  and  fervent  expectation ;  and  who  has  not  seen 
it  blotted  out,  and  mental  night  and  desolation  reigning  in 
its  stead  ? 

"  Well,  if  the  worst  is  to  come,*Ve  will  meet  it  calmly," 
said  Mercado,  with  a  kind  of  forced  calmness,  as  they  pre- 
pared to  leave  the  room.  "  But  if  I  am  indeed  to  become 
the  victim  of  these  bloodhounds  —  if  I  am  lost  to  thee, 
dear  Lucretia,  forever  —  " 

"  My  soul  will  be  changed  to  that  of  a  fiend,  and  ter- 
rible will  be  the  hell  that  fiend  will  prepare  for  those  who 
wrong  Lucretia  Borgia  !  " 


VI. 

THE   MEETING    OF   THE   CARDINALS. 

A  VAULTED  room  in  the  basement  of  the  Inquisition. 
A  marble  table  in  the  centre,  several  lighted  candles 
thereon,  and  half  a  dozen  men  seated  around  it.  They 
were  the  cardinals. 

In  one  corner  of  the  apartment  stood  the  messenger 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  31 

who  had  given  the  mask  the  death-warrant  of  Delano 
when  he  stood  upon  the  steps  of  St.  Peter.  His  red  cloak 
had  been  thrown  aside ;  but  still  all  of  his  garments  were 
of  a  blood-red  hue. 

"  Hugi,  has  he  —  the  mask  —  arrived  ?  "  asked  Cardi- 
nal Corneto,*  of  the  messenger. 

"  He  has." 

"  Then  retire,  and  bid  him  to  our  presence." 

The  order  was  obeyed.  An  instant  later,  the  mask  of 
St.  Peter's  stood  before  the  cardinals. 

"  Mask,"  said  Corneto,  "  there  's  work  for  thee." 

"  I  await  your  orders." 

"  There  they  are," — handing  a  paper.  "  The  document 
refers  to  Mercado.  See  that  you  execute  its  every  precept. 
His  death  is  desired  by  His  EMINENCE  ;  he  must  be  num- 
bered among  those  who  HAVE  lived,  before  two  days  have 
passed." 

The  mask  ran  his  eye  eagerly  over  the  paper.  "  Ha, 
ha  !  thus  do  I  succeed,"  he  muttered,  in  a  low  tone.  "The 
lover  of  Lucretia  Borgia  is  doomed  !  " 

And  then  he  turned  to  depart. 

"  Stay,"  commanded  Corneto.  "  There  's  another  war- 
rant for  thee  to  serve.  Its  tenor,  death  !  " 

"  To  whose  concern  ?  " 

"  Signora  Fortello's  !  " 

*  Cardinal  Corneto  is  not  a  fictitious  character.  He  was  an 
inunensely  wealthy  man,  and  —  from  all  accounts  —  extremely 
avaricious.  For  the  circumstances  attending  his  death,  the  reader 
is  referred  to  "  Bowling's  History  of  Romanism,"  a  work  of  the 
most  sterling  charactc^.  My  account  of  it,  near  the  close  of  this 
work,  will  be  found  historically  correct. 


32  THE    CRIMES   OF 

The  mask  started  violently,  and  recoiled  from  the  war- 
rant extended  towards  him. 

"  Why  do  you  start  ?  Take  the  paper,  and  hasten  to 
execute  it." 

Still  the  mask  hesitated. 

A  frown  overspread  Corneto's  brow. 

"  You  seem  surprised,"  he  remarked.  "  It  is  possible 
that  you  may  have  some  objections  to  the  death  of  this 
good  lady  ?  " 

"  I  have  —  but  well  know  that  I  may  spare  myself  the 
useless  trouble  of  stating  them,  if  you  have  decided.  Yet 
it  seems  a  very  strange  affair,  —  the  Pope  has  not  been 
informed  of  your  intentions." 

"  How  know  you  that  ?  But  no  matter  —  I  acknowl- 
edge that  you  speak  the  truth.  The  Pope  has  not  been 
consulted  on  the  subject.  But  think  you  that  we  cannot 
move  in  matters  concerning  the  welfare  of  the  church 
without  consulting  his  opinions  ?  " 

The  mask  remained  silent,  but  his  manner  of  doing  so 
plainly  expressed  dislike. 

"  Signer  mask,"  said  Corneto,  sternly,  "  you  trifle  with 
us  !  Must  I  remind  you  of  the  terms  on  which  you  serve 
this  council  —  of  the  fearful  contract,  conceived  and  ma- 
tured in  blood,  that  makes  your  life  security  for  the  fulfil- 
ment of  our  every  order  ?  " 

Still  the  mask  did  not  move  or  reply. 

"  Then  I  will  refresh  your  memory,"  continued  Cor- 
neto, with  increased  sternness.  "  At  the  dead  of  night, 
many  years  ago,  you  were  found  by  two  officers  of  this 
very  council,  in  a  dark  and  retired  street,  rifling  the  pock- 
ets of  a  man  you  had  just  slain.  The  fatal  dagger  was  in 
your  grasp,  the  blood  of  the  murdered  man  was  on  your 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  66 

clothes ;  and  therefore  you  could  not  have  escaped,  had 
those  two  officers  chosen  to  denounce  you.  But  they  did 
not  do  it . —  and  why  ?  Because  they  had  that  very  night, 
in  council  with  their  fellows,  been  considering  where  they 
could  find  an  executioner.  The  thought  occurred  to  them 
that,  as  your  life  was  forfeited,  you  would  purchase  it  by 
becoming  the  required  officer,  and  assuming  the  dagger 
and  black  mask  of  your  predecessor.  They  made  the  pro- 
posal —  you  accepted  —  and  now  I  ask  you  to  remember 
its  conditions." 

"  I  do,  your  Eminence.  The  conditions  were  that  my 
life  should  be  spared  as  long  as  I  served  you  faithfully, 
and  executed  your  orders.  I  have  done  so,  and  still 
intend  to ;  and  therefore  you  can  spare  yourself  the 
trouble  of  recalling  the  disagreeable  nature  of  our  bond  to 
mind.  I  am  not  treacherous  or  unwilling ;  I  was  only 
surprised." 

"  Very  well.  You  have  your  orders ;  see  that  they  are 
executed;  and  remember  that  you  are  serving  us,  the 
church  and  the  Pope,  and  you  will  never  hesitate." 

With  this,  the  cardinals  retired  from  the  vault,  one  by 
one. 

"  The  church  and  the  Pope !  "  muttered  the  mask,  gaz- 
ing after  them.  "  0,  fools !  —  fools  !  " 


VII. 

ALEXANDER   BORGIA. 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA,  Pope  Alexander  VI. ;  one  link  in 
the  chain  of  apostolic  succession  —  one  head  of  the  hydra 
called  the  Church  of  Home. 


34  THE   CRIMES   OF 

He  sat  alone  in  an  apartment  of  regal  splendor  and 
magnificence,  in  the  palace  of  the  Borgias.  He  was  an 
elderly  man,  upon  whose  visage  there  was  no  look  of  man- 
hood, upon  whose  heart  there  was  nothing  written  but  a 
damning  record  of  crime. 

"  Well,  let  it  be  so,"  he  muttered,  arousing  from  his 
musings.  "  The  cardinals  have  decided  that  Signora  For- 
tello's  life  belongs  to  them,  and  let  the  deed  be  done.  It 
is  all  for  the  good  of  the  church ;  her  wealth  will  swell  our 
coffers  greatly ;  ay,  let  her  die.  And  yet  she  was  the 
only  friend  I  had  when  first  I  came  to  Rome,  a  poor 
Spanish  adventurer.  It  was  her  influence  that  made  me 
a  cardinal,  and  that  placed  me  in  a  position  to  make  my- 
self a  Pope.  Never  mind ;  her  death  will  add  much  to 
my  riches ;  therefore  she  must  die !  " 

For  a  moment  he  was  silent ;  then  he  raised  his  hand, 
and  rang  a  bell  that  stood  upon  the  table. 

A  servant  entered. 

"  If  Donna  Lucretia  is  in  the  palace,  inform  her  that  I 
desire  to  have  her  visit  me  at  once,"  said  the  Pope.  "  I 
will  discover  whether  she  loves  this  Mercado  or  not,"  he 
soliloquized,  after  the  man  had  gone.  "  If  she  does,  as  I 
Buspect,  both  shall  feel  my  vengeance !  Poor  fool !  she 
knows  not  that  I  consider  myself  her  lover,  rather  than 
her  father.  But  we  shall  see  —  we  shall  see  !  " 

As  the  Pope  paused,  Donna  Lucretia  entered.  There 
was  a  slight  shade  of  anxiety  upon  her  face,  but  yet  she 
seemed  firm  and  composed. 

"  Ruflo  said  you  had  sent  for  me.  It  is  very  kind  of 
you,  dear  father !  "  And  she  threw  her  arms  around  his 
neck  and  kissed  him. 

"  Be  seated  here  beside  me,"  said  the  Pope,  with  all 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  35 

the  kindness  he  could  assume.  "  I  desire  a  few  moments? 
conversation  with  you." 

"  Proceed  —  I  listen  dutifully." 

"Allow  me,  as  a  first  question,  to  ask  if  you  love  a 
young  nobleman,  who  has  sometimes  visited  the  palace, 
and  is  known  as  Mefcado  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  inform  you  that  I  do/"  was  the  hesitatingly 
uttered  reply. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that  —  very  glad ;  for  he  is  doomed  to 
die.  I  have  his  death-warrant." 

Donna  Lucretia  started  up  and  stood  before  her  father, 
pale  as  death,  and  quivering  in  every  limb. 

"  What  do  I  hear  ? "  she  shrieked.  "  Mercado  doomed 
to  death !  The  death-warrant  of  my  lover !  O,  what 
means  this  horrid  revelation  ?  " 

"  Ah,  he  is  your  lover,  then  ? "  asked  Alexander 
Borgia,  with  an  involuntary  expression  of  irony  in  his 
voice. 

"  Since  it  has  come  to  this,  I  swear  it !  Mercado  is  my 
lover ;  /  am  his  betrothed  !  " 

"  Your  frankness  wins  my  approbation ;  it  does,  in- 
deed !  " 

"  No  jeering,  sir,  unless  you  forget  that  I,  too,  am  a 
Borgia  !  "  and  her  dark  eyes  flashed  fearfully  upon  him 
as  she  spoke.  "  If  my  lover  is  under  sentence  of  death, 
show  me,  a  way" to  save  him,  or  I  will  kneel  and  curse 
you!  O,  do  it! — do  it,  if  you  love  earth,  or  fear  the 
pangs  of  hell !  " 

"  Peace,  peace,  my  daughter  !  It  is  true  that  I  have 
a  warrant  for  Morcado's  death ;  but  the  difficulty  may 
not  be  so  great  as  you  imagine.  I  think  I  can  point  out 
a  way  by  which  you  can  save  him.  Now  that  he  is  in 


36  THE    CRIMES   OF 

such  deadly  peril,  it  will  be  noble,  gracious,  if  you  can 
prove  his  salvation,  his  guardian  angel !  " 

Donna  Lucretia  smiled,  and  her  features  were  flushed 
with  enthusiasm. 

"  It  will,  it  will,"  she  murmured.  "  Show  me  the  way  !  " 
and,  again  kissing  her  companion,  she  seated  herself  lov- 
ingly by  his  side. 

"  You  will  understand  that  this  is  not  my  work,"  and  he 
drew  forth  the  warrant.  "  You  will  not  think  that  I  have 
been  plotting  against  so  noble  and  worthy  a  man  as  Mer- 
cado  ?  It  is  the  work  of  the  cardinals." 

"  I  understand;  but  the  way  to  save  him — show  me  the 
way." 

"  Which  I  will  do,  if  you  will  but  listen  to  my  story. 
Many  years  ago,  a  young  Spanish  nobleman,  —  or  rather 
a  priest,  —  who  had  then  been  several  years  in  Home,  fell 
violently  in  love  with  a  noble  Italian  lady,  who  was  a 
widow,  and  the  mother  of  one  child,  a  daughter.  He 
loved  her  with  a  fondness  and  devotion  that  amounted  to 
adoration ;  but,  strange  to  say,  the  lady  did  not  return 
his  passion.  To  the  contrary,  she  repulsed  his  advances, 
and  bade  him  bestow  his  love  where  it  would  meet  with  a 
return.  Still  he  pressed  his  suit ;  and  there  is  no  know- 
ing how  it  would  have  ended,  had  not  the  lady  suddenly 
died " 

"  I  have  heard  something  like  this  before,"  interrupted 
Donna  Lucretia,  much  agitated ;  "  but  go  on.  The  lady 
died " 

"  And  the  child  was  adopted  by  the  priest,  who  reared 
her  as  tenderly  as  father  ever  reared  a  daughter.  He 
saw  her  budding  into  girlhood,  and  felt  that  her  love  and 
artless  words  of  endearment  repaid  him  for  all  his  trouble, 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  37 

and  made  him  much  the  debtor.  He  saw  her  lovely  form 
ripening  into  womanhood,  and  bearing  an  almost  exact 
resemblance  to  the  form  of  her  he  had  loved  so  well,  but 
fatally,  years  before  !  He  listened  to  her  words,  so  sweet 
and  winning,  and  every  tone  seemed  but  the  echo  of  the 
voice  of  the  mother,  she  who  had  so  completely  won  his 
heart.  Days  sped  on,  years  rolled  away ;  and  at  last  he 
found  that  his  adopted  daughter  was  so  much  like  the  first 
object  of  his  passion,  that  the  love  which  had  once  raged 
so  violently  in  his  heart  was  transferred  to  her.  He  loved 
her  —  adored  her;  and,  see!  that  lover  is  kneeling  at 
the  feet  of  the  one  he  loves !  " 

And  Pope  Alexander  VI.  sank  down  upon  his  knees 
before  Lucretia  Borgia ! 


VIII. 

FEARFUL   REVELATION'S. 

DOXNA  LUCRETIA  started  to  her  feet,  and  for  full  thirty 
seconds  she  stood  before  the  libertine  Pope,  trembling,  and 
deathly  pale,  without  moving  or  uttering  a  word. 

"  Then  you  are  the  priest,  and  not  my  father,"  she  ex- 
claimed, at  last.  "  My  mother  was  the  object  of  your 

love ;  and  now  I 0,  God !  what  is  the  meaning  of 

this  frightful  revelation?" 

"  It  means,  dear  Lucretia,  that  I  love  you !  For  years 
I  have  cherished  a  hope  that  you  would  one  day  be  mine ; 
for  years  I  have  looked  upon  your  expanding  beauties  with 
the  longing  eyes  of  love  and  admiration  !  Though  we  may 
not  wed,  yet  thou  canst  be  to  me  all,  —  wife,  daughter, 

EVERYTHING  !  " 

4 


38  THE   CRIMES   OF 

And  the  passionate  man,  still  kneeling,  pressed  the  fair, 
lily  hand  he  held  to  his  lips ;  but  it  was  quickly  with- 
drawn. 

"  Monster  ! "  cried  Lucretia  Borgia,  and  her  features 
eeemed  as  sternly  rigid  as  marble.  "  Arise,  or  I  will  call 
on  God  to  curse  you  where  you  kneel !  Think  not  to 
make  me  an  easy  prey,  or  I  will  teach  thee  that  the  blood 
in  my  veins  is  no  less  passionate  because  it  is  not  drawn 
from  thy  veins.  I  know  thee  well!  Thy  story  is  not 
new  to  me ;  I  had  its  outlines  from  mad  Seta,  long  ago, 
but  did  not  know  that  I  was  that  child.  Up,  devil  in 
human  shape,  or  from  this  hour  I  shall  be  thy  deadly 
enemy ! " 

"  Beware,  Lucretia !  It  were  not  well  for  thee  to  force 
me  from  my  wonted  calmness  and  good  feeling  towards 
thee.  The  love  of  Pope  Alexander  VI.  is  not  to  be  light- 
ly scorned !  " 

"  Your  love !  If  there  were  aught  in  hell  more  pollut- 
ing, the  fiends  themselves  would  be  incapable  of  enduring 
it,  and  it  would  drive  them  hence !  " 

"  Fool !  poor,  beautiful  fool !  "  muttered  Borgia,  with  a 
mocking  laugh.  "Thou  lookest  on  me,  by  my  soul,  just 
as  thy  mother  did  some  seventeen  years  ago,  —  as  vainly, 
too !  She  crossed  my  wishes  —  and  died  !  Not  the  first 
or  last  who  might  have  claimed  a  similar  epitaph !  " 

"Ay,  jeer  on  !  mock  me  with  a  rehearsal  of  your  deeds, 
even  to  the  murder  of  my  mother  !  O  that  I  were  a  man, 
and  thou  not  a  coward  !  I  'd  soon  rid  the  world  of  a  mon- 
ster, a  fiend  in  human  shape,  that 's  already  more  than 
doubly  damned !  " 

"  Peace,  girl,  peace  !  or  I  shall  forget  myself,  and  fore- 
go all  mercy ! "  and  he  seized  her  violently  by  the  arm. 


ALEXANDER   BORGLA.  3U 

"  You  should  remember  Mercado ;  't  was  of  his  salvation 
we  were  about  to  speak  !  " 

"  You  cannot  harm  him  ;  already  has  he  been  warned 
of  your  machinations  against  him,  and  will  ever  be  on  his 
guard  !  " 

"  Silly  girl !  how  little  do  you  realize  the  power  of 
Alexander  Borgia!  Know  you  that  you  met  Mercado 
half  an  hour  since  at  mad  Seta's " 

"  I  know  this  already." 

"And  also  know  that  in  less  than  five  minutes  after  you 
left  him  he  was  arrested  by  my  orders,  and  is  now  a  close 
prisoner  in  the  Inquisition  !  " 

Donna  Lucretia  reeled,  and  sunk,  nearly  fainting,  into 
a  chair. 

"  Perhaps  you  doubt  my  words,"  continued  the  Pope. 
"  You  shall  go  with  me  and  see  him,  and  then  you  shall 
know  the  terms  of  his  release." 

"  Mevcado  here  !  let  us  fly  to  him  at  once !  "  murmured 
the  fair  Italian,  at  last. 

"  As  you  will,  dear,  DEAR  Lucretia !  "  responded  Borgia, 
with  the  glance  of  a  basilisk,  as  he  extended  his  arm. 

The  lady  took  it,  fearfully,  shudderingly,  and  both  passed 
from  the  room. 


IX. 

TUB   OFFER   AND   REFUSAL. 


AN  underground  hall  in  the  Inquisition.  It  was  of 
oblong  shape,  and  dimly  lighted  by  a  single  lamp  suspend- 
ed in  the  centre  of  it.  Each  end  of  it  was  enshrouded  in 
darkness  ;  both  were  as  silent  as  the  grave. 


40  THE   CRIMES   OF 

Silent  ?  No.  There  was  a  dark  form  in  one  corner, 
and  when  it  moved  the  clanking  of  chains  was  heard. 
'T  was  there  that  Mercado  was  confined. 

"  My  doom  is  sealed,"  he  soliloquized,  in  a  low  voice. 
"  Death  is  my  portion  ;  eternal  misery  the  inheritance  of 
her  I  love,  the  noble  and  gentle  Lucretia !  0,  that  we 
could  have  died  together,  or  that  I  could  have  told  thou 
that  I  was  going  on  a  far  journey,  so  that  thou  wouldst 
have  hoped  and  waited  for  my  return,  until  I  had  partially 
faded  from  thy  remembrance,  and  thou  had  thus  been  pn  - 
pared  for  the  final  blow  !  If  this  is  thy  father's  work, 
fearfully  will  he  repent  the  wrong  he  is  doing  his  child !  " 

A  door  behind  the  young  noble  was  noiselessly  opened  ; 
a  familiar  *  entered. 

"  Signor  Mercado,"  he  said,  "  I  come  from  Alexander 
Borgia.  One  of  the  chief  elements  of  my  business  is 
briefness ;  so  I  shall  not  trouble  you  long.  My  master 
has  learned  that  you  are  in  love  with  his  daughter  —  which 
he  dislikes.  You  are  condemned  to  death,  and  only  one 
course  can  save  you.  If  you  will  leave  Home  forever, 
and  within  the  hour,  and  swear  never  to  have  any  further 
acquaintance  with  Donna  Lucretia,  either  by  word  or 
deed,  you  will  be  set  at  liberty.  What  is  your  reply  ?  " 

"  This :  Go  to  your  master,  and  tell  him  that  I  scorn 
him  and  his  infamous  proposal !  " 

*  Familiars  were  the  most  detestable  of  all  the  officers  of  Cathol- 
icism. They  were  employed  hy  the  leading  officers  of  the  church 
to  visit  prisoners,  worm  themselves  into  their  confidence,  and,  under 
the  guise  of  friendship,  gain  all  their  secrets,  and  then  betray  them 
to  the  Inquisition  !  They  have  even  been  known  to  show  prisoners 
a  pretended  way  of  escape,  that  they  might  have  the  pleasure  of 
arresting  them  at  the  moment  when  they  thought  themselves  free, 
and  thus  feast  the  Holy  Fathers  on  their  agony  ! 


ALEXANDER    BORGIA.  41 

"  You  had  better  take  time  for  reflection  —  not  rush  on 
certain  death,  which  your  words " 

"  Leave  me  !  you  have  your  answer,  as  briefly  as  even 
you  could  have  desired.  I  am  a  free  man,  and,  being  free, 
have  a  right  to  love  Donna  Lucretia,  which  no  man  shall 
destroy,  save  but  with  my  death.  You  are  answered; 
go  at  once." 

The  familiar  was  already  gone,  but  the  mask  of  St. 
Peter's  was  standing  in  his  place. 

"  You  had  better  reconsider  your  decision,"  he  mut- 
tered, in  a  sepulchral  voice.  "  It  is  altogether  too  hasty. 
Perhaps  you  think  you  are  not  doomed.  If  so,  read  your 
death-warrant !  "  and  he  thrust  the  paper  before  his  face, 
and  opened  a  dark  lantern  he  had  brought,  that  the  pris- 
oner might  read  it.  • 

"  I  see,"  said  Mercado.  "  It  is  signed  by  the  cardinals, 
and  bears  their  seal.  Death  is  indeed  my  lot !  "  and  he 
threw  himself  moodily  into  one  corner  of  the  apartment. 

"  Is  your  resolution  fixed  ?  " 

"  As  the  decrees  of  destiny  !  " 

The  mask  uttered  a  curse  of  vindictiveness.  and  turned 
to  depart.  The  familiar  was  standing  at  the  door. 

"  Pireto,"  said  the  mask  to  him,  "  see  that  my  orders 
are  executed  to  the  letter.  If  the  bell  rings  three  times, 
behead  your  prisoner,  in  conformity  to  the  orders  already 
given.  But  should  it  ring  but  twice,  you  must  not  harm 
a  hair  of  his  head  !  " 

The  familiar  bowed  assent,  and  the  mask  departed.    And 
here  we  change  the  scene. 
4* 


42 


THE   CRIMES    OF 


THE   TERRIBLE    PROMISE. 


THE  inner  office  of  the  Inquisition.  Pope  Alexander 
VI.  and  Donna  Lucretia  entered,  wearing  black  cloaks. 

"  Now  show  me  Mercado,"  said  the  lovely  woman,  in  a 
voice  that  trembled  with  commingled  tenderness  and  anxi- 
ety for  the  loved  one.  "  Then  show  me  a  way  to  avert 
the  impending  doom." 

"  Your  wishes  shall  be  gratified.  Do  you  observe  that 
glass  socket  in  the  wall  yonder  ?  " 

"  I  do.  It  seems  to  be  firmly  set  in  the  solid  masonry. 
What  is  its  object  ?  " 

"  The  keepers  look  through  it,  and  are  thus  enabled  to 
see  what  is  going  on  in  the  cells  within.  Imitate  their 
use  of  it,  and  tell  me  what  thou  seest." 

The  maiden  obeyed,  but  instantly  darted  back  with  a 
shudder  and  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"  I  gazed  up  and  down  the  whole  length  of  the  corridor, 
and  saw  the  cells  upon  either  hand,"  she  exclaimeJ. 

"  Look  again.  The  foot  of  the  corridor  opens  into  a 
large  room.  Look  at  the  lower  end  of  that  room,  and  tell 
me  what  thou  seest." 

Donna  Lucretia  obeyed. 

"  A  figure  chained  to  the  wall,  —  a  prisoner.  Who  can 
it  bo?  Ha!  a  door  opens;  a  man  enters  with  a  dark 
lantern ;  he  turns  it  toward  the  captive's  face.  Can  it 
be  ?  Yes ;  great  Heavens !  the  prisoner  is  Mercado  !  " 

The  fair  Italian  would  have  fallen  to  the  floor,  had  Bor- 
gia's strong  arm  not  been  thrown  around  her  waist. 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  43 

"  It  is  Mercado,"  he  quietly  remarked.  "  Observe  him 
well ! " 

"  The  bearer  of  the  lantern  is  followed  by  two  more 
men ;  they  are  followed  by  the  fourth  ;  and  he  —  my  God ! 
the  fourth  bears  a  block  and  an  axe ! " 

"  The  fourth  does  bear  a  block  and  an  axe,"  chimed  in 
Borgia.  "  Again  observe !  " 

"  He  sets  the  block  down ;  he  speaks  to  Mercado,  who 
has  arisen ;  Mercado  kneels,  and  seems  resigning  himself 
to  his  fate;  now  he  rises,  and  now  —  0,  heavens!  he  lays 
his  neck  upon  the  block !  " 

"  He  does,  he  does,  dear  Lucretia !  "  hissed  Borgia,  in 
the  ears  of  the  fair  girl.  "  And  now  listen  to  what  I  have 
to  say.  You  behold  this  bell-cord,  at  my  right  hand.  It 
connects  with  a  bell  in  the  vicinity  of  your  lover's  dungeon. 
If  I  ring  it  three  times,  the  executioner  will  immediately 
behead  him  ;  for  such  is  the  signal  agreed  upon,  and  thus 
is  a  third  of  it' given  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  jerked  the  bell-cord. 

"  Father  —  Pope  —  Alexander  Borgia  !  What  do  you 
intend  to  do  ?  Would  you  murder  my  lover  in  cold  blood  ?  " 
and  again  she  looked  through  the  glass  socket.  "Ha !  the 
executioner  has  seized  his  bloody  axe,  at  the  sound  of  the 
bell,  and  approaches  Mercado  !  O,  fiend,  devil !  prevent 
this  hellish  work  from  going  on,  or  I  will  strike  you  dead 
at  my  feet !  " 

Borgia  laughed. 

"  Think  you  that  I  should  not  have  time  to  ring  the 
bell  twice  more  before  I  die  ?  "  he  asked,  with  an  undis- 
guised sneer.  "  You  do  not  seem  to  realize  the  power  of 
the  man  you  are  trifling  with." 

"I  do  — I  do!" 


44  THE   CRIMES   OF 

"  Do  you  not  know  that  my  word  is  law,  —  my  anger, 
death  !  Have  you  never  reflected  that  the  terrible  Black 
Mask,  whose  career  of  blood  cannot  be  spoken  of  without 
a  shudder,  seconds  my  designs,  and  seems  as  intimately 
connected  with  me  as  if  he  were  my  shadow  ?  Have  you 
never  paused  to  think  that  there  are  hosts  and  hosts  all 
around  us  who  have  no  desire  or  duty  but  to  execute  my 
wishes?  As  you  have  doubtless  discovered,  I  execute 
many  of  my  plans  in  a  mystical  manner,  for  the  gratifica- 
tion of  astonishing  the  every-day  fools  around  us ;  but  you 
know  that  I  am  not  the  less  deadly  when  I  have  a  deadly 
purpose  to  fulfil " 

"  But,  Mercado  !  Speak  of  him.  Even  now  the  exe- 
cutioner may  be  suspending  the  fatal  axe  over  his  head !  " 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed ;  your  lover  will  not  be  beheaded 
until  I  have  rung  the  bell  twice  more,  —  twice  more,  my 
dear  Lucre tia  !  " 

"  Demon !  what  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  Spare  your  epithets,  and  listen.  Time  flies ;  this 
business  must  be  settled.  Now  mark  me,  and  mark  well. 
There  is  only  one  way  to  save  the  life  of  Mercado :  your 
promise  to  be  mine  is  the  only  medium  of  his  salvation  ! 
I  love  you,  have  loved  you  for  years,  and  have  sworn  to 
make  you  mine.  You  have  scorned  me ;  you  have  dared 
to  cross  my  wishes ;  but  let  that  pass.  You  now  under- 
stand that  I  have  a  way  to  gain  my  wishes.  Decide,  and 
at  once  !  Swear,  by  your  mother's  soul,  to  be  mine,  or  in 
less  than  sixty  seconds  your  lover  will  have  ceased  to 
exist ! " 

"  0,  God !  what  an  alternative  !  "  cried  Donna  Lucre- 
tia,  as  pale  as  death,  and  trembling  in  every  limb.  She 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  45 

leaned  against  the  wall,  and  glared  wildly  through  the 
socket. 

"  What !  do  you  hesitate  ?  Then  I  will  ring  again ; 
your  lover  dies !  "  And  again  he  jerked  the  bell-cord  ! 

"  Stay  —  stay  !     I  will  promise  —  I  will !  " 

"  Swear  it,"  said  Borgia,  fiercely,  with  his  hand  upon 
the  cord.  "  Swear  to  be  wholly  mine  at  an  early  day,  or 
I  ring  for  the  third  and  last  time." 

"  By  my  mother's  soul,  I  swear  it!"  came,  in  a  low 
whisper,  from  the  ashy-pale  lips  of  Donna  Lucretia,  and 
she  sank  backwards  into  his  arms,  in  a  fainting-fit. 

And  as  the  dark  eyes  of  Alexander  Borgia  roved  over 
that  insensible,  but  strangely,  wildly  beautiful  form,  a 
laugh  of  exultation  escaped  him,  and  he  cried,  with  the 
joy  of  a  fiend  rejoicing  over  a  damned  soul, 

"Ha,  ha !  she 's  mine, — mine  forever,  body  and  soul ! " 


BOOK    SECOND. 


CJESAK   BOBGIA. 

A  WEEK  later.  The  scene  —  Alexander  Borgia's  pri- 
vate apartment.  The  old  man  was  seated  by  a  table, 
evidently  musing.  His  thoughts  at  last  found  utterance. 

"  All  goes  well,"  he  soliloquized.  "  There  's  not  a  day 
that  passes  but  that  I  add  to  the  wealth  and  influence  of 
the  church,  and  consequently  to  my  own.  My  private 
affairs  are  also  in  the  most  prospering  and  flattering  state. 
The  fair  Lucretia  is  mine ;  her  lover  safely  confined  in  a 
dungeon,  where  he  will  never  see  her  or  trouble  me  j  and 
thus  have  I  gratified  my  revenge  on  the  child  of  the  proud 
beauty  who  scorned  me  years  ago.  O,  Lucretia  Borgia, 
poor,  vain  fool !  little  are  you  aware  of  the  hate,  the  long- 
meditated  revenge,  that  instigated  me  to  the  deed  !  " 

A  door  opened  as  the  Pope  paused,  and  his  son,  Caesar 
Borgia,  reeled  into  the  room,  in  a  state  of  intoxication. 

"  How  are  you,  most  respectable  old  Gripus  ?  "  he  ex- 
claimed; "  and  how  are  the  funds?  " 

"  Caesar,"  said  the  Pope,  in  a  stern  voice,  "  do  not 
address  me  in  this  brutal  way.  Where  have  you  been, 
that  you  have  lost  the  little  sense  nature  endowed  you 
with?  Among  a  crowd  of  gallants,  drinking  and  carous- 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  47 

ing  all  day,  I  '11  be  sworn.  As  for  the  funas,  you  have 
squandered  them.  Where  are  the  thousand  maravedis  I 
gave  you  two  days  since  ?  " 

"  Applied  to  spiritual  uses  ;  and  now  I  want  as  much 
more,  for  the  same  laudable  purpose." 

"  You  will  not  have  it.  Your  demands  on  my  purse  are 
beyond  all  forbearance,  and  I  am  heartily  tired  of  listen- 
ing to  the  evil  reports  that  are  in  circulation  concerning 
your  shameful  debauchery  and  dissipation.  But  come  to 
me  to-morrow  morning,  when  you  have  recovered  from 
the  potations  of  to-day,  and  I  will  see  what  can  be  done 
for  you." 

"  Thank  you.  You  are  quite  an  amiable  old  cut-throat, 
only  when  you  are  in  pursuit  of  a  jugular  under  diffi- 
culties. But  farewell ;  I  'm  going.  I  shall  see  you  iu 
the  morning.  Farewell;  I'm  going." 

"  "Well,  why  in  the  devil's  name  don't  you  go  ?  I  have 
no  patience  to  talk  with  you  now  ;  but  in  the  morning  I  '11 
attend  to  you,  if  you  are  sober." 

"  I  tell  you  I  am  going.  I  have  an  appointment  with 
the  fair  —  the  fair  and  lovely  —  the  fair  and  lovely  — 

what-do-you-call  her?  D d  if  I  can  remember  what 

her  name  is.  But  I  am  going.  I  see  you  are  disgusted 
with  me,  as  I  am  with  you,  vesa  varcy.  Farewell !  I 
shall  see  you  in  the  morning." 

And  Caesar  departed,  going  out  of  one  door  as  Lucre- 
tia  entered  by  another. 


48  THE  CRIMES  OF 

II. 

THE    PLOT   DEEPENS. 

A  GREAT  change  had  been  wrought  in  the  appearance 
of  Donna  Lucretia  in  one  short  week.  Her  cheeks  were 
very  pale.  A  wild,  reckless  light  had  taken  the  place  of 
the  gentle,  loving  expression  that  had  formerly  rested  in 
her  eyes,  like  a  gem  on  an  ocean  of  pearl ;  and  there  was 
an  unusual  look  of  resolution  upon  her  features,  as  she 
paused  before  the  Pope. 

"  I  have  kept  my  promise,"  she  commenced,  in  a  voice 
that  quivered  with  emotion;  "I  now  ask  you  to  keep 
yours." 

"Well,  well;  we  will  talk  of  this  to-morrow.  I  am 
wearied  with  the  business  of  the  day,  and  would  fain  re- 
tire to  rest  with  thee.  To-morrow,  dearest  Lucretia,  your 
requests  shall  be  attended  to." 

"  Ah,  this  to-morrow,  with  which  we  ward  off  the  evils 
of  the  present,  and  banish  subjects  we  would  fain  elude  ! 
But  I  am  weaned  with  these  repeated  delays.  I  urge  the 
fulfilment  of  your  promise  now,  —  this  very  hour." 

"  And  what  if  I  refuse  ?  "  asked  Borgia,  with  assumed 
carelessness,  as  an  evil  look  appeared  in  his  dark  eyes. 

"Refuse!  You  dare  not;  nor  is  it  wise  in  you  to 
trifle  longer  with  me.  Mercado  is  still  in  a  loathsome  dun- 
geon   " 

"  Where  he  will  remain  till  he  becomes  food  for 
worms,"  interrupted  the  Pope,  with  a  look  of  infernal  tri- 
umph. "  Dare  not !  There 's  not  a  heaven  I  dare  not 
defy,  a  hell  I  dare  not  brave,  when,  by  so  doing,  I  can 
avenge  the  injuries  I  received  at  the  hands  of  your 
mother." 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  49 

"  She  never  injured  you ;  or,  if  she  did,  the  wrong  was 
unintentionally  given." 

"  'T  is  false !  "  cried  Borgia,  passionately.  "  Did  she 
not  scorn  me,  despise  my  love,  and  drive  me  from  her 
presence  ?  But  I  had  a  glorious  revenge.  Ha !  ha ! 
They  who  brave  the  vengeance  of  Alexander  Borgia  should 
have  a  myriad  of  lives !  " 

"  And  my  mother  —  she,  too,  was  fearfully  wronged  by 
this  demon,"  said  Lucretia,  musingly,  as  her  hand  in- 
voluntarily sought  the  hilt  of  a  dagger. 

"  Wronged  !  You  can  call  it  what  you  choose.  She 
scorned,  defied  me,  as  queenly  as  thou  hast  done ;  but  I 
had  my  pay  for  it.  I  made  her  life  her  hell ;  I  put  upon 
her  a  curse  like  that  of  Cain,  and  would  have  worn  her 
life  away  by  inches,  had  she  not  taken  poison  and  died,  to 
escape  me.  Do  you  hear,  girl  ?  Was  I  not  fully  re- 
venged ?  " 

"0,  God!  my  poor,  murdered  mother!"  exclaimed 
Donna  Lucretia,  in  anguish,  as  she  bowed  her  head  upon 
her  hands. 

"  Ay,  grieve  on !  By  my  soul,  I  never  knew  what 
gratified  hate  and  revenge  was  until  this  hour.  Not  with 
your  mother's  death,  poor  fool,  did  I  feel  satisfied.  0, 
no ;  I  had  sworn  to  have  my  choicest  feast  in  the  destruc- 
tion of  her  child.  You,  Lucretia  Borgia,  —  you, — ha, 
ha !  —  and  fearfully  have  I  kept  my  oath.  Listen. 
Know  you  that  it  was  I  that  called  the  cardinal's  atten- 
tion to  Mercado !  know  you  that  I  was  instrumental  in 
getting  his  death-warrant,  that  I  might  terrify  you  into 
compliance  with  my  wishes !  I  have  done  so,  and  am  con- 
tent." 

«  0,  monster ! " 
5 


50  THE   CRIMES  OF 

"  But,  think  you,  that  I  would  now  free  your  lover  ? 
No.  The  cardinals  think  him  already  dead,  agreeably  to 
the  orders  they  gave  the  mask.  It  would  be  dangerous 
for  me  were  they  informed  to  the  contrary.  Dead  your 
lover  is  to  all  intents  and  purposes ;  for,  by  the  vengeance 
of  a  Borgia,  he  shall  never  leave  his  dungeon  alive  !  Dost 
hear?" 

Donna  Lucretia  was  wrought  up  to  a  terrible  state  of 
excitement.  She  saw  the  whole  damning  plot,  of  which 
she  had  been  the  victim.  She  saw  how  Mercado  had 
been  denounced  and  doomed,  how  she  had  been  inveigled 
in  the  hope  of  saving  him,  and  now  she  realized  that 
Borgia  was  still  determined  on  his  death.  Her  excite- 
ment amounted  to  a  species  of  madness,  and,  drawing  a 
dagger,  with  the  quickness  of  thought,  she  aimed  a  power- 
ful blow  at  his  heart. 

v  The  steel  struck  against  a  concealed  corslet,  and  was 

shivered  to  the  hilt. 

"  You  can  save  yourself  further  trouble,"  said  Borgia, 
quietly,  as  he  rang  a  bell. 

Two  servants  entered. 

"  Conduct  Donna  Lucretia  to  her  rooms ;  she  is  faint." 

They  proceeded  to  obey  the  order,  receiving  no  opposi- 
tion from  her.  She  turned  but  once,  —  once  only,  —  as 
she  passed  from  the  apartment;  but  it  was  a  look  in 
which  the  hate  and  revenge  of  a  lifetime  seemed  concen- 
trated. 

"  Were  she  not  Iwr  child,  and  there  were  few  of  her 
sex  to  command  my  admiration,  I  would  not  carry  my 
vindictiveness  so  far,"  soliloquized  Borgia.  "  As  it  is,  I 
am  determined.  She  has  not  the  place  in  my  heart  that 
is  possessed  by  La  Belle  Florctta ;  therefore  she  shall  not 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  51 

receive  any  mercy.  But,  speaking  of  La  Belle  Floretta, 
I  must  see  how  thrives  my  suit  with  her,  and  how  Delano 
is  passing  his  time.  I  '11  away  at  once." 


III. 

THE  WEIRD   SISTERS. 

THE  scene  — a  cave  high  up  on  one  of  the  seven  hilla 
on  which  the  "  eternal  city "  is  built.  It  was  a  dark, 
gloomy-looking  spot,  possessing  an  exterior  that  would 
have  deterred  a  person  of  ordinary  nerve  from  entering ; 
yet  we  will  pass  in,  and  see  what  new  phase  of  mystery  is 
revealed. 

Upon  a  rude  couch,  in  the  corner  of  that  cave,  lay  a 
female  form,  —  that  of  an  old  woman,  —  with  thin,  atten- 
uated features,  deeply-sunken  eyes,  which  gleamed  like 
funeral  torches  in  their  sockets,  and  a  figure  that  seemed 
strangely  wasted  by  age  and  disease.  She  was  the  sister 
of  mad  Seta  ;  and  mad  Seta  herself  was  kneeling  beside 
her. 

"  I  am  going  to  my  long  home,  Seta,"  said  the  dying 
woman,  in  a  low,  tremulous  voice.  "  There  is  something 
in  my  heart  that  tells  me  I  shall  not  behold  another  day ; 
and,  therefore,  I  must  now  reveal  a  secret  I  have  cher- 
ished so  long  and  guardedly,  or  see  it  lost  forever." 

"  Speak  on ;  I  listen." 

"  Nineteen  years  have  passed  since  first  I  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Alexander  Borgia,  the  present  head  of 
the  Catholic  church.  He  was  then  a  young  man  of  pleas- 
ing appearance,  with  a  smooth  tongue  and  agreeable  man- 


52  THE   CRIMES   OF 

ners.  I  was  a  young  woman,  considered  good-looking, 
and  possessed  all  the  passionate  qualities  that  mark  the 
daughters  of  Italy.  I  loved  this  young  soldier  and  priest, 
—  this  Spanish  adventurer,  if  it  pleases  you  to  call  him  so, — 
and  was  beloved  by  him ;  at  least,  he  so  professed.  Under 
a  sacredly-uttered  promise,  he  triumphed  over  my  weak 
opposition  to  his  wishes,  and  I,  in  time,  became  a  mother 
by  Alexander  Borgia."  t 

"  Sister,  you  astonish  me ;  I  never  knew  aught  of  this 
before." 

"  But,  ere  the  child  was  born,  I  became  well  convinced 
that  its  father  had  ceased  to  feel  for  me  the  love  he  first 
professed,  and  had  become  smitten  with  the  many  charms 
of  a  noble  Italian  lady.  I  watched  him,  and  saw  circum- 
stances quite  sufficient  to  satisfy/iny  jealous  eyes  and  em- 
bittered heart.  I  also  learned  J^at  the  object  of  his  love 
was  with  child ;  and,  as  token  after  token  of  his  coldness 
and  neglect  was  given  me,  strange  thoughts  of  revenge 
arose  in  my  mind.  Knowing  that  both  children  would  be 
born  at  about  the  same  time,  —  feeling  assured  that  I 
would  be  cast  off  and  left  to  poverty  and  disgrace,  in 
which  to  rear  my  babe,  —  I  determined  — " 

"  Hold  !  "  exclaimed  Seta,  wildly,  clasping  her  hand  to 
her  brow.  "  Do  not  say  that  you  changed  the  babes ! 
that  she  —  the  Italian  mother  —  reared  your  child  !  " 

The  dying  woman  smiled  grimly.  The  paleness  of 
death  was  on  her  features. 

"  That  was  the  very  course  I  took  to  accomplish  my 
revenge,"  she  continued,  in  a  low  voice.  "  But  here  are 
the  papers ;  my  confessions  relative  to  the  affair.  Read, 
read !  they  will  tell  you  that  my  object  was  fully  accom- 
plished. Though  I  was  cast  off  by  the  father  of  my  child, 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  63 

that  child  found  a  home  where  it  was  tenderly  cared  for  ; 
and  when  the  noble  Italian  lady  died,  the  little  girl  was 
adopted  by  a  wealthy  man.  By  whom,  do  you  think?  " 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  By  Alexander  Borgia,  her  father  " 

Mad  Seta  started  wildly  to  her  feet,  and  a  hot  flush  ap- 
peared on  her  features,  as  she  shrieked, 

"And  the  real  child  of  this  Italian  lady,  —  what  became 
of  her?" 

"  She  still  lives,  though  in  humble  circumstances.  She, 
she  — "  The  weird  woman  paused,  gasping  for  breath. 
It  was  evident  that  she  was  failing  fast. 

"  Speak  !  "  exclaimed  mad  Seta,  "  speak,  and  give  me 
the  name  by  which  she  is  known,  and  tell  me  where  she 


"  She  —  she  is  called  La  — "  Again  the  dying  woman 
paused,  and  closed  her  eyes,  even  as  if  life  were  departing. 
Then  she  rallied,  making  a  desperate  effort  to  reveal  the 
secret  she  had  sacredly  guarded  so  long  ;  but  she  was  too 
much  exhausted.  Clutching  Seta  by  the  arm,  and  staring 
into  her  face,  with  a  terrible  expression  of  anxiety,  she 
essayed  once,  twice,  thrice,  to  speak  ;  but  in  vain.  She 
could  only  hold  up  the  papers,  motion  her  sister  to  read 
them,  and  point  at  three  names  upon  one  of  them  ;  then 
she  sank  back  and  died. 

And,  deadly  pale,  and  trembling  in  every  limb,  tho 
weird  woman  read  those  three  names  from  the  paper  : 

"  Floretta  Delano  Lucretia  Borgia." 
5* 


54  THE   CRIMES   Off 

IV. 

THE   RESOLUTION. 

DONNA  LUCRETIA  had  taken  but  a  few  steps  in  the  hall, 
after  leaving  the  Pope,  when  she  dismissed  her  attendants, 
telling  them  that  she  had  quite  recovered  from  her  sudden 
indisposition.  Th6n  she  threw  herself  into  a  chair,  and 
seemed  musing,  abstractedly  uttering  her  thoughts. 

"  Hell  has  been  masked  ere  now  with  the  semblance  of 
heaven,"  she  murmured,  "  and  angels  have  been  lured 
within  its  borders,  ere  the  deceit  was  discovered.  And  as 
deeply,  fatally,  have  I  been  deceived  and  cheated.  The 
land  has  disappeared,  the  wind  is  driving  me  far  from  the 
shore  on  which  the  beacon-light  of  hope  was  gleaming,  and 
henceforth  I  wander  over  stormy  waters.  All  is  lost,  ex- 
cept a  wretched  existence  ;  and  if  I  still  endure  that,  — 
still  struggle  on  amid  the  sorrows  by  which  I  am  sur- 
rounded, —  it  is  only  to  claim  the  great  and  terrible  re- 
venge I  have  bought  at  such  a  fearful  price." 

For  a  brief  instant  she  was  silent,  while  a  deep  fount 
of  emotion  seemed  raging  in  her  heart ;  then  she  continued 
in  the  low,  deep  voice  which  bespeaks  a  strong  resolution 
and  a  deadly  purpose  : 

"  Alexander  Borgia  has  taught  me  that  I  am  not  his 
daughter,  and  would  now  teach  me  that  I  am  his  slave,  his 
mistress,  his  dupe  !  "  and  the  words  were  hissed  with  the 
venom  of  a  fiend.  "But  let  him  look  well  to  himself; 
let  him  watch  me,  and  let  him  guard  his  prisoner  !  Mer- 
cado,  if  Heaven  approves  the  deed,  and  woman's  wit 
and  woman's  courage  can  avail  aught,  thou  shalt  soon 
be  as  free  as  the  air  we  breathe.  I  '11  get  a  priestly  cloak 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  55 

and  cowl,  and  see  if  I  cannot  gain  admittance  to  Mer- 
cado's  dungeon." 

With  this,  she  passed  into  her  room.  In  a  moment,  she 
came  out  into  the  hall  again,  disguised  as  a  priest.  Plac- 
ing an  unsheathed  dagger  in  her  bosom,  she  murmured, 

"Now  for  a  deed  that 'shall  free  Mercado,  and  convince 
even  Alexander  Borgia  that  man's  power  for  wrong  is  not 
always  equal  to  his  will." 

As  she  was  passing  from  the  hall,  a  servant  placed  him- 
self on  her  path.  "  Well,  sirrah,  what  do  you  want  ?  " 
demanded  Lucretia,  angrily. 

"  Excuse  me ;  but  it  is  the  Pope's  order  that  you  do 
not  leave  the  palace.  I  dare  not  permit  you  to  pass." 

"  Nor  need  you  permit  me,"  said  Donna  Lucretia,  scorn- 
fully, "  for  I  shall  go  and  come  without  your  permission, 
or  that  of  your  most  worthy  master  !  "  and  she  essayed  to 
move  on. 

The  servant  seized  her  by  the  arm. 

"  My  orders  are  strict,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  I  must  answer 
with  my  life  for  their  fulfilment." 

"  Ay,  you  must,"  responded  Lucretia,  bitterly ;  and, 
drawing  her  dagger,  she  added,  "  I  will  give  your  master 
a  proof  of  your  services,  one  that  will  convince  him  that 
you  endeavored  to  obey  his  orders ; "  and,  quick  as 
thought,  the  weapon  was  buried  in  the  servant's  bosom, 
and  he  sank  bleeding  to  the  floor. 

"  Thus  is  my  career  of  blood  begun,"  shrieked  the  pas- 
sionate Italian,  laughing  hysterically;  "but  I  am  ab- 
solved, nobly  absolved,  Mercado,  for  it  is  for  thee  !  " 

And  then  she  passed  quickly  from  the  hall,  even  at 
the  moment  that  Alexander  Borgia  entered  it. 


56  THE   CRIMES   OF 

"  "What  is  this  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  My  faithful  Prato 
wounded !  Whose  hand  has  dared  to  do  this  deed  ?  " 

"  Donna  Lucretia,  your  Eminence  — " 

"  Ha !  then  there  is  some  dare-devil  purpose  in  her 
brain.  I  must  see  to  this  at  once.  Perhaps  she  means  to 
free  her  lover." 

"  'T  is  the  very  mission  on  which  she  is  gone,"  groaned 
the  wounded  man. 

"  Then  I  must  be  up  and  doing.  Remain  quiet,  my 
faithful  Prato.  I  will  send  those  who  will  attend  to 
thee." 

And  the  Pope  hurried  from  the  hall,  muttering,  as  he 
passed  through  the  door, 

"  If,  by  chance,  she  succeeds  in  freeing  Mercado,  the 
mask  of  St.  Peter's  shall  execute  the  warrant  he  has  for 
his  death.  As  a  prisoner,  he  might  live ;  but,  the  hour 
he  becomes  a  free  man,  the  self-same  hour  he  dies." 


V. 

LUCRETIA  BORGIA'S  FIRST  ASSASSINATION. 

A  CORRIDOR  in  the  Inquisition.  Donna  Lucretia  and  a 
jailer  entered,  the  former  still  wearing  the  cowl  and  cloak. 

"  You  say  that  you  are  a  priest,  and  have  a  message 
for  Mercado  ? "  asked  the  officer,  as  he  eyed  her  sus- 
piciously. 

Donna  Lucretia  bowed. 

"  But  I  have  very  good  authority  for  thinking  other- 
wise," said  the  jailer.  "  Priests  don't  wear  satin  slippers, 
and  I  can  swear  that  you  had  on  a  very  elegant  specimen 
of  that  style  of  goods  as  you  came  down  stairs." 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  57 

"  Give  me  the  key  to  Mercado's  cell,  and  allow  me  to 
pass,  or  else  lead  the  way  yourself,"  commanded  Donna 
Lucretia.  "  You  can  divine  my  purpose  from  my  dress, 
and  have  no  authority  to  prevent  one  of  the  '  Holy 
Fathers '  from  seeing  a  prisoner ;  therefore  lead  on." 

"  No,  no,  Donna  Lucretia.  Ha !  you  start  at  the 
name.  I  thought  I  was  right  in  my  conjectures.  You 
are  the  daughter  of  the  Pope  !  " 

The  fair  Italian  turned  her  face  away,  and  a  look  of 
unutterable  anguish  appeared  on  her  features,  while  she 
trembled  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Must  I  kill  this  man  ?  "  she  murmured.  "  0,  why  is 
it  that  such  opposition  meets  me  at  every  step  ?  It  is  the 
fatality  that  ever  hovers  over  the  victims  of  Alexander 
Borgia !  Sir,"  she  added,  aloud,  "  you  have,  indeed, 
penetrated  my  disguise ;  but  allow  me  to  pass,  and  a  for- 
tune shall  be  yours." 

"  I  cannot,  lady.  Your  father  bade  me  to  prevent  and 
forbid  all  admittance  to  -Mercado  ;  and  you  —  you,  Donna 
Lucretia  —  were  specially  excepted  by  name." 

"  Ay,  I  must  kill  him ! "  murmured  the  agonized 
woman,  again  turning  away,  and  her  hand  clutched  the 
hilt  of  a  dagger.  "  He  must  not  baulk  my  purpose ;  my 
lover  dies  unless  this  man  is  removed  at  once.  Thou,  God, 
who  seest  all  things,  look  down  upon  me  in  this  extremity, 
and  judge  of  the  deed  by  the  motive !  " 

Then  she  threw  herself  upon  her  knees  before  the  jailer, 
and  exclaimed, 

"  Grant  me  permission  to  see  the  prisoner  for  a  few 
moments  only,  and  I  will  never  ask  a  favor  of  you  again. 
Do  this,  if  you  are  a  man.  Have  you  no  sister  or  mother, 
the  memory  of  whom  can  plead  for  me  ?  " 


58  THE   CRIMES   OF 

"  I  have  a  sister  and  a  mother  — " 

"  Then  show  me  the  favor  I  ask.  I  conjure  you,  by 
your  love  for  them,"  cried  Donna  Lucretia,  wildly.  "  I 
will  make  them  rich,  powerful ;  they  shall  have  as  high 
a  position  as  any  in  the  land  — " 

"  Hold !  I  must  not  listen  to  these  words.  I  tell  thee, 
once  for  all,  I  cannot  admit  thee  to  Mercado's  cell." 

Donna  Lucretia  started  to  her  feefy  and  cast  her  eyes 
wildly  toward  heaven. 

"  God  forgive  the  deed !  "  she  murmured,  with  quiver- 
ing lips  and  deathly-pale  cheeks.  Then  she  drew  her 
dagger,  already  stained  with  blood,  and,  with  the  quick- 
ness of  electricity,  drove  it  deep,  deep  into  the  jailer's 
breast,  through  and  through  his  very  vitals. 

"  You  have  slain  me,"  he  gasped,  as  he  sank  to  the  cold 
stone  floor.  "  My  mother  —  sister  — " 

"  They  shall  be  cared  for,"  cried  Donna  Lucretia,  kneel- 
ing beside  him.  "  I  '11  make  them  rich,  and  do  all  I  can 
to  atone  for  this  crime." 

"  God  bless  you !  "  was  the  reply. 

The  miserable  woman  stared  wildly  upon  the  face 
before  her. 

"  What  do  I  hear  ?  A  blessing  on  your  murderess  ! 
No,  no,  no  !  " 

"  I  do  not  blame  you.  Had  I  been  in  your  place,  I 
had  done  as  much,  or  more." 

"  Heaven  bless  thee  forever  for  the  words  !  And  you 
will  not  curse  me  ?  You  will  not  appear  against  me  in  a 
future  world  ?  " 

"  No,  no  !  I  am  glad  to  die  for  thee.  Save  Mercado. 
He  too  is  noble  and  good,  and  has  spoken  kindly  to  poor 
Marco.  I  am  dying  !  I  feel  the  dews  of  death  on  my 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  59 

brow,  and  its  icy  fingers  at  my  heart.     Give  me  your 
hand,  dear  lady  !  let  me  kiss  it  —  thus  —  and  — " 

His  voice  ceased ;  his  nerves  relaxed,  and  he  sank  back 
upon  the  floor.     His  soul  had  gone  to  its  God. 


VI. 

THE   ESCAPE. 

TUB  scene  changes  to  Mercado's  dungeon.  The  young 
noble  stood  by  the  grated  door ;  his  hands  were  clasped 
around  the  iron  bars,  that  kept  him  from  the  enjoyment 
of  liberty.  His  face  was  very  pale,  yet  it  wore  a  stern 
and  resolute  expression;  and  his  eyes  gleamed  with  the 
light  of  a  noble  purpose  and  a  high  resolve. 

"Dear  Lucretia,"  he  murmured,  "by  the  Heaven 
which  alone  has  heard  our  mutual  vows,  I  swear  that  they 
shall  be  kept,  if  not  here,  in  that  great  hereafter,  to  which 
every  human  being,  savage  or  civilized,  looks  with  rever- 
ence. They  may  take  my  life,  but  they  cannot  take  away 
the  cheering  consciousness  of  being  beloved  by  thee ;  nor 
can  they  make  me  false  to  thee,  a  traitor  to  myself,  an 
apostate  to  my  God  !  " 

A  door  leading  into  the  corridor,  a  short  distance  from 
him,  was  opened,  and  the  rays  of  a  light  dissevered  a  por- 
tion of  the  darkness  that  reigned  around. 

"  Ha,  what  do  I  see  ?  A  priest  ?  He  comes  this  way, 
doubtless  to  offer  me  the  consolation  of  the  '  holy  church.' 
I  will  not  see  him,  or  speak  to  him." 

With  this,  Mercudo  retired  to  the  rear  of  his  cell,  and' 
seated  himself  upon  a  rude  stool.  The  person  be  had  seen 
enter  soon  paused  before  the  door  of  his  dungeon.  He 


60  THE    CRIMES   OF 

saw  the  rays  of  the  light  flashing  into  his  cell,  but  deter- 
mined not  to  raise  his  head.  He  heard  a  key  placed  in 
the  massive  lock ;  he  heard  the  creaking  noise  it  made,  as 
it  was  turned ;  and  then  he  heard  the  ponderous  door  swing 
back  on  its  rusty  hinges ;  but  still  he  remained  with  his 
head  bowed  upon  his  hand?,  even  after  his  visitor  paused 
before  him. 

"  Mercado, —  dear  Mercado  !  "  whispered  Donna  Lucre- 
tia,  in  a  low  tone. 

The  effect  was  instantaneous.  The  prisoner  sprang  to 
his  feet.  For  a  moment  he  stared  wildly  upon  the  pale 
face  before  him ;  then  he  murmured  "  Dear  Lucretia  !  "  and 
clasped  her  in  a  warm  embrace. 

"  But  how  did  you  gain  admittance  t "  was  his  first 
interrogation. 

The  fair  Italian  woman  shuddered.  "  Do  not  ask  me," 
she  responded.  "  It  is  enough  that  I  have  the  keys,  and 
that  I  am  here  to  save  you.  Come." 

"  I  must  not.  It  would  be  known  that  yon  were  instru- 
mental in  my  escape,  and  vengeance  would  fall  upon  you. 
No,  dear  Lucretia,  I  cannot  go." 

"  Have  no  fears  for  me.  Believe  me,  all  will  be  well 
for  us  both,  if  you  will  only  improve  the  opportunity  now 
given  you." 

"  0,  noblest,  best  of  women !  "  cried  Mercado,  enthusi- 
astically, as  he  pressed  her  to  his  heart.  "  Thou  art  the 
light  of  my  soul,  the  altar  on  which  my  offerings  of  love 
and  affection  are  laid,  the  idol  around  which  my  hopes 
and  aspirations  cluster !  Thou  art  — " 

"  A  murderess ! "  and  Donna  Lucretia  held  up  her 
bloody  hand,  and  pointed  to  the  stains  upon  her  dress. 
"  To  gain  admittance,  I  have  slain  the  jailer." 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  61 

"  Then  be  thou  — " 

"  Hold,  Mercado !  Not  one  word  of  reproach  from  you 
is  needed,  to  make  my  heart  and  bosom  the  abode  of 
living  torments.  My  love,  your  life,  everything  called  for 
the  sacrifice ;  and  poor  Marco  himself  was  glad  that  I  had 
taken  it,  and  blessed  me  for  the  deed.  Murder,  as  in  this 
case,  is  often  committed  against  the  wishes  of  those  who  do 
the  deed.  They  may  be  intoxicated,  or  self-preservation 
may  enjoin  the  blow  ;  but  is  it  the  less  regretted  by  them, 
and  should  they  be  held  accountable  and  punished  as 
murderers  ?  Religion,  man  and  God,  alike  say  No !  " 

"  You  are  right,  dearest.  I  was  wrong  to  think  ill  of 
you,  even  for  one  brief  moment.  Poor  Marco  was  the 
victim,  —  you  the  executioner, — and  both  made  so 
against  your  wishes." 

"  God  only  knows  how  much  his  death  was  against  my 
wishes.  Had  I  possessed  a  thousand  lives,  I  would  have 
yielded  up  them  all  to  gain  the  end  secured  by  the  jailer's 
death,  before  I  would  have  harmed  him.  But  let  it  all 
pass.  Only  one  course  remains  :  to  fly  this  spot ;  to  gain 
security,  and  revenge  ourselves  and  him" 

"  It  shall  be  so,  if  we  can  only  gain  our  liberty  —  " 

"  Which  we  can  readily  do,  if  you  will  trust  to  my 
guidance.     The  way  by  which  I  passed  within  these  walls 
shall  guide  me  back  with  thee  to  liberty.     Come,  let  us 
away,  silently,  but  with  all  possible  despatch." 
6 


62  THE  CRIMES 


VII. 

LA  BELLE  FLORETTA. 

SLUMBER  is  never  more  beautiful  than  when  it  rests 
upon  beauty  and  innocence. 

La  Belle  Floretta  was  sleeping  on  a  luxurious  couch  in 
a  room  of  queenly  splendor.  Her  beautiful  features  were 
wreathed  with  a  sweet  smile,  even  as  if  she  were  convers- 
ing with  angels  in  her  dreams  ;  her  hair  was  scattered  in 
bewitching  confusion  over  a  neck  and  bosom  as  white  and 
smooth  as  Parian  marble ;  and  never  was  there  a  more 
perfect  picture  of  a  sleeping  beauty  than  could  have  been 
drawn  by  a  skilful  artist  from  that  she  presented. 

Nor  was  her  loveliness  destined  to  be  unobserved.  A 
secret  door  at  one  side  of  the  apartment  was  drawn  aside, 
and  Alexander  Borgia  entered.  He  moved  forward  until 
he  stood  beside  the  couch  of  the  sleeping  maiden,  keeping 
his  attention  riveted  upon  the  many  charms  that  met  his 
gaze. 

"  She  is,  indeed,  a  prize  worth  possessing,"  soliloquized 
the  priestly  libertine,  as  his  gloating  eyes  feasted  upon  the 
exquisite  outlines  of  that  voluptuous  form,  rendered  all  the 
more  fascinating  by  the  slight  drapery  that  rested  o'er 
them.  "  A  prize  of  beauty,  indeed ;  and  I  will  move 
heaven  and  earth  but  that  she  shall  be  mine." 

He  bent  down  and  pressed  his  hot,  burning  lips  to  those 
of  the  sleeper,  once,  twice,  again,  and  yet  again,  as  if  he 
were  mad  with  passion. 

The  maiden  moved  uneasily ;  a  flush  appeared  on  her 
cheeks,  as  she  murmured, 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  63 

"  Do  not  kiss  me  so  often  now,  dear  Hernaldo ;  wait 
till  we  are  married." 

The  Pope  started  as  if  an  adder  had  stung  him,  and  a 
frown  appeared  upon  his  brow. 

"  Ah,  this  accounts  for  her  refusal  to  hearken  to  my 
wishes,  as  expressed  through  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's.  She 
has  a  lover ;  his  name,  Hernaldo.  Hernaldo  what  ?  I 
must  find  out.  Some  ignorant,  poverty-stricken  bumpkin, 
I  '11  be  sworn." 

He  paused ;  for  La  Belle  Floretta  moved,  as  if  about 
to  awaken  from  her  slumbers. 

"She  to  love  one  of  the  low  herd,  —  the  ignorant 
rabble  !  By  my  soul,  she  is  worthy  of  being  the  wife  of 
an  emperor,  —  well  worthy  of  being  the  mistress  of  Pope 
Alexander  VI." 

And  again  he  bent  down  and  kissed  her.  The  maiden 
started  up,  with  an  exclamation  of  alarm,  and  stared 
wildly  upon  the  form  before  her. 

"  You  are  not  that  fearful  mask,"  she  murmured ;  "  but 
is  he  not  here,  —  is  not  this  his  palace  ?  " 

"  No,  dear  Floretta.  A  drug  was  administered  to  you, 
and  while  you  were  under  its  influence  you  were  re- 
moved from  the  mask's  mansion,  and  brought  here,  — 
here,  where  true  love  and  happiness  awaits  thee." 

"  Love,  happiness  !  "  responded  the  maiden.  "  0,  sir, 
do  not  speak  of  these  ;  for  they  are  like  funeral  pyres  in 
my  memory.  But  who  are  you,  who  visit  me  at  this  un- 
timely hour;  and  why  do  you  gaze  so  earnestly  upon 
me  ?  " 

"  Because  I  love  you,  dear  Floretta.  Eyes  can  never 
tire  of  gazing  on  the  object  loved  by  their  possessor.  I 
could  gaze  on  thee  till  time  has  given  all  it  here  controls 


64  THE   CRIMES    0* 

to  dark  eternity.  I  love  thee,  maiden.  I  have  brought 
thee  here  to  bless  me  with  thy  charms,  and  cheer  me  with 
thy  smiles." 

"You?"  cried  La  Belle  Floretta,  recoiling  from  him; 
"  who  dares  to  utter  language  such  as  this  to  me  ?  " 

"  One  who  dares  do  all  things  that  can  add  to  his 
wealth,  or  promote  his  happiness.  La  Belle  Floretta,  you 
are  now  in  the  palace  of  the  Borgias  — " 

A  cry  of  alarm  interrupted  him. 

"  And  in  the  power  of  one  who  has  sworn  to  make  you 
all  his  own,  —  ay,  in  the  very  arms  of  Alexander  Borgia, 
Pope  of  Rome  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  threw  his  arms  around  the  maiden's 
waist,  and  drew  her  to  his  heart. 

"  Mine,  mine !  "  he  exclaimed ;  but  even  as  he  spoke 
three  hasty  raps  were  given  on  the  door. 

"  Ila  !  that  signal  cannot  be  disregarded.  Something 
of  vital  importance  has  occurred,"  soliloquized  Borgia ; 
and  he  moved  hurriedly  forward  and  opened  the  door,  dis- 
covering a  servant. 

"  Mercado  has  escaped,"  said  the  man,  excitedly,  "  and 
the  jailer  has  been  slain." 

The  Pope  did  not  start  or  look  surprised,  nor  desire  the 
servant  to  reiterate  his  statement.  He  knew  that  it  was 
true,  for  he  had  taught  his  servants  that  a  false  report 
would  cost  the  one  who  uttered  it  his  life. 

"  Enough.  We  understand  you,"  was  all  the  reply  he 
made ;  and  the  man  departed. 

"  Farewell,  Floretta,"  continued  Borgia,  with  a  smile, 
as  he  bestowed  an  admiring  glance  upon  the  maiden.  "  I 
have  business  of  importance  to  attend  to,  but  shall  soon 
see  you  again.  Farewell !  " 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  65 

And  then  he  passed  from  the  room. 

But  the  smile  was  gone  from  his  features  the  instant  he 
found  himself  alone,  and  in  its  place  was  a  fierce  and  vin- 
dictive look,  as  he  muttered, 

"  This  is  the  work  of  that  she-devil,  Lucretia ;  but,  by 
the  Papal  crown,  her  lover  shall  atone  for  it  with  his  life ! 
The  mask  of  St.  Peter's  never  fails  in  his  duty." 


VIII. 

THE   PARTING. 

THE  bridge  of  St.  Angelo's.  Near  one  end  of  it  Mer- 
cado  and  Lucretia  Borgia  were  standing.  They  had 
passed  safely  from  the  dungeons  of  the  Inquisition,  and 
were  now  uttering  their  parting  adieus. 

"  We  shall  meet  again,  dear  Lucretia,"  said  the  young 
noble,  with  the  gentle  accents  of  love,  as  he  gazed  with  a 
look  of  undying  affection  upon  the  lovely  woman,  and 
pressed  his  lips  to  her  pale  cheeks.  "  For  a  while  I  must 
bid  adieu  to  Rome,  as  the  blood-hounds  are  on  my  track, 
but  it  will  not  always  be  so.  The  time  will  come  when  I 
can  claim  you  as  mine  —  when  we  shall  be  happy." 

"  Heaven  grant  it !  God  knows  I  should  have  died, 
had  this  bold  effort  for  your  freedom  not  been  successful. 
But  you  must  hasten  away.  .Already  may  the  minions  of 
the  church,  or  the  officers  of  the  Inquisition,  be  on  your 
track.  Take  my  blessing,-*- this  farewell  kiss,  —  and  go ; 
and  may  Heaven  watch  over  thee  now  and  forever,  and 
grant  that  we  may  soon  meet  again,  iu  peace  and  happi- 
ness ! " 

6* 


W>  THE   CRIMES  OF 

And  then  they  parted,  with  what  feelings  we  shall  not 
attempt  to  describe. 

Scarcely  had  Mercado  moved  away  towards  the  opposite 
end  of  the  bridge,  often  looking  behind,  when  a  look  of 
agony  passed  over  her  features,  and  she  murmured, 

"  0,  dear,  noble  Mercado  !  If  thou  but  knew  that  I 
have  already  sold  myself  to  Alexander  Borgia,  to  buy  thy 
life,  and  failed  even  at  that  fearful  price,  what  misery 
would  be  thine  !  " 

The  fair  being  was  silent  for  a  brief  instant ;  then  she 
continued, 

"  A  thought  strikes  me.  I  will  follow  Mercado,  keep- 
ing at  a  distance  behind  him,  until  he  is  out  of  danger ; 
for  now  a  chilling  remembrance  sweeps  across  my  mind 
with  prophetic  earnestness.  I  remember  how  a  young 
nobleman,  who  had  fallen  under  the  displeasure  of  the 
church,  and  been  confined  some  time,  received  his  liberty, 
only  to  be  struck  down  the  following  night  by  the  hand  of 
the  mask  of  St.  Peter's.  Though  Mercado  has  escaped 
from  his  dungeon,  he  may  be  watched  by  that  terrible 
being,  may  be  doomed  to  be  his  victim !  At  any  rate, 
right  or  wrong,  I  will  follow  him." 

And  Donna  Lucretia  moved  hastily  away  in  the  direc- 
tion taken  by  Mercado. 

"  Ha,  ha  ! "  laughed  a  hoarse  voice,  in  tones  of  infernal 
triumph,  from  behind  a  pillar  near  where  the  lovers  had 
been  standing  ;  and  a  pair  of  dark  eyes  were  fixed  intently 
upon  the  retreating  form  of  the  woman. 

It  was  the  exulting  laugh  of  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's. 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  67 

IX. 

A   DEED  OF   BLOOD. 

MERCADO  had  crossed  the  bridge,  and  was  passing  along 
the  street. 

"  Once  more  I  breathe  the  air  of  liberty,"  he  solilo- 
quized, "  and  soon  shall  be  beyond  the  reach  of  those  who 
would,  at  one  blow,  rob  me  of  love,  life  and  fortune.  Still 
I  am  in  danger,  and  must  be  prepared  to  sell  my  life  as 
dearly  as  possible,  should  I  be  discovered." 

"  Mercado,"  said  a  voice  close  to  his  side,  "  you  are 
free ;  but  do  not  linger." 

He  turned,  and  beheld  mad  Seta.  Her  thin  features 
were  wreathed  with  a  look  of  terrible  anxiety,  and  in 
her  hand  she  held  the  papers  she  had  received  from  her 
sister  ere  she  died. 

"  I  do  not  question  how  you  gained  your  freedom,"  con- 
tinued the  old  woman,  "  for  I  can  readily  understand  that 
Donna  Lucretia  had  no  small  share  in  your  fortunate 
escape.  But  go  —  go  at  once.  You  may  think  that  your 
flight  is  not  discovered,  because  there  is  not  a  great  hue 
and  cry  raised ;  but  you  should  bear  in  mind  that  the 
church  works  secretly  and  silently,  and  its  officers  would 
not  make  a  stir  sufficient  to  attract  the  attention  of  the 
rabble,  were  half  a  dozen  prisoners,  instead  of  one,  to 
escape.  Away,  at  once." 

"  I  will  do  so,  good  Seta.  If  you  see  Donna  Lucretia, 
bear  her  my  blessing ;  and  so,  farewell !  " 

Mercado  moved  hastily  away  as  he  spoke ;  but  had  not 
gone  half  a  dozen  steps  before  a  dark  figure  threw  itself 
in  his  path. 


08  THE    CRIMES   OF 

"The  mask  of  St.  Peter's!"  cried  the  young  noble, 
wildly,  as  he  made  an  effort  to  draw  the  dagger  Lucretia 
Borgia  had  given  him  ;  but  he  was  too  late. 

For  the  mask's  dagger  was  already  drawn  ;  and,  before 
the  victim  could  move  or  speak,  it  was  driven  home  to  the 
hilt  in  his  vitals ! 

"  They  have  triumphed,"  gasped  the  fated  nobleman,  as 
he  sank  to  the  ground  in  death.  Then  he  murmured 
"  Dear  Lucretia !  "  and  died. 

"  Thus  do  I  add  another  link  to  my  chain  of  revenge !  " 

A  terrible  cry  succeeded,  —  a  shriek  of  terror  that 
seemed  to  freeze  upon  the  still  air  of  the  night,  —  and 
Lucretia  Borgia  darted  forward,  and  sank  down  insensible 
by  the  side  of  her  murdered  lover. 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  the  assassin,  exultingly.  "  Thus 
do  I  add  another  link  to  my  chain  of  revenge.  But  the 
**  body  —  that  must  be  thrown  into  the  Tiber  !  He  was  to 
have  been  slain  a  week  ago,  —  so  read  the  orders  of  the 
oardinals, —  and  I  do  not  desire  to  have  it  known  to  them 
that  I  have  neglected  their  orders  until  now." 

With  this,  he  raised  Mercado's  body  in  his  strong  arms, 
and  flung  it  into  the  river.  As  it  fell  splashing  into  the 
rushing  waters  beneath  him,  he  bestowed  an  earnest  look 
upon  the  insensible  form  of  Donna  Lucretia,  then  adjusted 
his  mask,  sheathed  his  bloody  weapon,  and  walked  rapidly 
away,  muttering, 

«'  Thus  are  fulfilled  the  wishes  of  a  Borgia  !  " 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  O9 

X. 

THE   MYSTERY   DEEPENS. 

"  I  FEARED  he  would  be  slain  !  "  cried  mad  Seta,  as  the 
mask  disappeared.  She  had  observed  the  whole  scene 
with  the  most  agonizing  emotions.  She  now  darted  for- 
ward, and  bent  over  the  form  of  Donna  Lucretia,  and 
applied  herself  to  an  effort  to  restore  her  exhausted  facul- 
ties. 

Lucretia  soon  recovered,  and  arose  to  her  feet,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  weird  woman,  and  gazed  wildly  around. 
Her  eyes  finally  rested  upon  her  companion. 

"Woman  !"  she  cried,  sternly,  seizing  her  arm,  "where 
is  the  body  of  Mercado  ?  " 

"  Ask  the  Tiber,  or  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's ;  both  can 
give  ye  a  true  account  of  it,"  was  the  reply.  "  0,  Donna 
Lucretia,  I  would  that  I  had  died  ere  this  misery  was 
meted  out  to  you  !  Ere  these  tears  of  pity —  " 

"  Hush  !  do  not  speak  of  pity  to  me,"  and  there  was  a 
ghastly  smile  of  desperation  upon  the  woman's  features, 
and  her  eyes  glittered  fearfully  as  she  spoke.  "  Ha,  ha  ! 
Who  shall  dare  to  speak  of  pity  to  Lucretia  Borgia  ? 
List  you,  mad  Seta,  and  judge  if  I  am  not  a  fiend  in  the 
shape  of  a  woman,  and  one  already  damned  !  Know  you 
that  I  sold  my  honor  to  the  Pope  for  his  false  and  treach- 
erous promise  to  save  Mercado  —  " 

"  No,  no ! "  shrieked  the  weird  woman,  starting  back 
with  a  wild  exclamation  of  horror. 

"  'T  is  true ;  and  then,  after  finding  that  I  had  been 
deceived,  I  slew  the  jailer  to  gain  admission  to  Mer- 
cado's  dungeon  —  " 


70  TIIE   CRIMES   OF 

"  'T  is  false ;  you  could  not  have  done  the  fearful 
deed ! "  exclaimed  mad  Seta,  with  another  cry  of  horror. 

"  I  have  the  proof  of  it,  as  you  can  see,"  and  she  held 
her  hand  before  the  old  woman's  face,  while  the  nickering 
rays  of  a  neighboring  lamp  shone  dimly  on  the  stains  of 
blood.  "  Nor  is  that  all  I  've  done.  I  tell  you,  Seta,  I 
have  damned  myself  eternally,  body  and  soul,  in  the  hope 
of  saving  Mercado's  life ;  and  yet  he  has  been  murdered  in 
cold  blood." 

"  Hush,  Donna  Lucretia,  do  not  speak  so  wildly  —  " 

"  But  I  will  have  revenge  —  a  vengeance  dark  and 
bloody  —  full  and  terrible  as  has  been  the  measure  of  my 
wrongs.  This  night,  this  very  hour,  I  '11  hasten  to  the 
palace ;  and  the  first  work  of  my  hand,  the  first  stroke  of 
revenge,  shall  be  the  death  of  Alexander  Borgia.  I  '11 
avenge  my  shame  and  infamy  —  " 

"  Ha,  ha !  a  noble  vengeance." 

"  I  '11  avenge  my  mother's  wrongs ;  the  miseries  that 
have  been  heaped  upon  me ;  the  curses  woven  with  my 
destiny ;  the  sufferings  of  Mercado ;  his  death ;  his  dying 
agonies !  Ha,  ha !  I  '11  have  a  feast  of  blood ;  I  '11  be 
the  mightiest  monster  in  this  sea  of  human  gore.  I  '11 
slay,  kill,  destroy  —  " 

"  0,  God !  could  I  but  tell  thee  all,—  the  mystery  of 
thy  father,  mother  —  " 

"All,  all?  I  have  heard  already  more  than  I  can 
bear.  My  brain  and  heart  are  changed  to  living  hells, — 
they  burn,  they  burn,  —  and  fiends  are  warring  there. 
Farewell,  hope,  and  love,  and  happiness,  —  gone,  all  gone 
forever !  Come  night,  come  desolation,  —  bloodshed  and 
vengeance  now  are  wooing  thee !  No  more  peace ;  no 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  71 

more  rest !  On,  on !  To  the  palace  of  the  Borgias ! 
Blood,  —  ha,  ha  !  Vengeance  !  death  !  " 

And,  with  wildly-gleaming  eyes,  deathly-pale  features, 
dishevelled  hair,  and  garments  disarranged,  the  wretched 
woman  drew  her  dagger,  twice  stained  with-  blood  since 
evening  came,  and  rushed  wildly  from  the  spot,  followed 
by  mad  Seta,  who  wept  and  prayed  and  cursed  by  turns, 
and  said,  at  last, 

"  0,  God !  how  deeply  cursed,  how  surely  damned,  are 
both  the  infamous  father  and  his  fated  child  !  " 


XL 

REVENGE   THWARTED. 

ALEXANDER  BORGIA  was  seated  in  his  private  apart- 
ment. A  bottle  of  wine  was  before  him ;  a  glass,  which 
he  had  drained  several  times,  was  in  his  hand. 

The  expression  that  rested  upon  his  countenance  was  a 
singular  one.  It  spoke  of  gratified  hate,  and  revenge  yet 
to  be  accomplished. 

"  'T  is  done,  and  well  done,"  he  observed,  in  a  musing 
manner.  "  The  whole  of  the  immense  wealth  of  Mercado 
now  belongs  to  the  church,  and  will  soon  be  in  its  treas- 
ury, from  whence  no  small  portion  of  it  will  find  its  way 
to  my  hands.  'T  was  I  that  led  the  cardinals  to  believ*- 
that  Mercado  was  a  heretic,  and  a  dangerous  man  to  oup 
cause ;  't  was  I  that  made  such  dupes  of  them  that  the^ 
determined  on  his  death,  agreeably  to  my  wishes  and  the 
plans  I  had  formed ;  and  yet  none  of  them  have  discov- 
ered my  hand  in  the  affair ;  none  of  them  have  suspected 


72  THE   CRIMES   0* 

the  truth,  that  I  have  made  tools  of  them  for  the  gratifica- 
tion of  the  feelings  I  bear  my  reputed  daughter." 

A  frown  appeared  upon  his  brow  as  he  made  this  allu- 
sion to  Donna  Lucretia,  and  he  added : 

"  Speaking  of  Lucretia,  I  must  be  on  my  guard  against 
her,  or  her  vengeance  will  fall  upon  me." 

.  A  secret  door  behind  him  was  opened  at  this  juncture, 
and  Lucretia  Borgia  entered.  Her  face  was  still  pale, 
her  appearance  wild  and  haggard,  but  she  had  evidently 
striven  to  subdue  the  emotions  which  had  been  aroused  in 
her  heart. 

"  The  girl  has  a  dare-devil  spirit,"  continued  the  Pope, 
"  and,  being  conscious  of  her  wrongs,  and  having  seen  her 
lover  slain,  she  will  doubtless  form  some  plan  of  revenge. 
I  must  be  prepared,  —  ever  be  on  my  guard  against  her." 

Donna  Lucretia  now  stood  close  behind  the  Pope's 
chair,  deathly  pale,  but  with  resolution  stamped  upon 
every  feature.  She  had  already  drawn  her  dagger,  and 
her  hands  trembled  nervously  upon  its  hilt. 

And,  at  this  critical  moment,  a  new  feature  was  added 
to  the  exciting  scene.  A  servant  entered  at  the  secret 
door,  and  stole  cautiously  up  behind  the  woman,  unseen 
by  her  or  Borgia. 

"  Poor  Lucretia !  "  added  the  Pope,  after  remaining 
silent  a  moment.  "  Little  is  she  aware  that  I  was  the 
cause  of  her  lover's  death ;  that  I  have  drawn  her  into  a 
cunningly-woven  web ;  that  I  have  ruined,  polluted  her, 
with  the  intention  of  casting  her  off — " 

The  sentence  was  unfinished.  There  was  a  shout,  a 
hasty  noise  behind  him,  a  terrible  cry,  and  the  Pope 
started  to  his  feet  and  turned.  Donna  Lucretia  had 
aimed  a  blow  at  his  heart,  but  her  hand  had  been  stayed 


ALEXANDER   BORCIIA.  73 

by  the  servant;  and  he  was  struggling  to  confine  her. 
He  finally  succeeded  in  wresting  the  weapon  from  her 
frenzied  grasp. 

"  What,  another  attempt  to  murder  me  !  "  cried  Borgia. 
"  By  Heavens,  this  outrage  shall  not  pass  unpunished ! 
What,  ho  !  my  guards  !  " 

Two  or  three  armed  servants  soon  entered  the  room. 

"  Seize  that  woman  !  "  commanded  the  infuriated  man, 
pointing  to  Lucretia ;  "seize  her,  and  bear  her  to  the 
dungeons  of  the  Inquisition !  She  is  a  wanton  and  a 
murderess ! " 

The  men  moved  forward ;  but,  ere  they  laid  hands  upon 
Donna  Lucretia,  a  dark  figure  darted  before  her,  and  a 
shrill  voice  exclaimed, 

"  Hold,  as  ye  love  life !     I  forbid  you  to  approach  !  " 


XII. 

TERRIBLE  REVELATIONS. 

THE  intruder  was  mad  Seta. 

"  Harm  not  a  hair  of  this  poor  girl's  head,"  she  cried, 
as  she  shook  her  long,  bony  finger  menacingly  at  the  Pope 
and  his  minions ;  "  for  she  is  your  daughter  ! " 

"  Liar  !  "  shouted  Borgia,  as  he  seized  her  fiercely  by 
the  arm.  "  Say  those  words  again,  and,  by  the  demons  in 
hell,  that  moment  shall  be  your  last !  Hag,  witch,  devil ! 
Why  do  you  come  here  at  this  time,  with  your  infernal 
croakings  ?  " 

"  Bid  these  men  leave  us,  and  I  will  tell  you  all." 

Borgia  waved  his  hand ;  the  servants  all  left  the  room, 
and  the  door  was  closed. 
7 


74  THE   CRIMES   OT 

"  0,  fool,  fool !  "  exclaimed  the  weird  woman,  as  sho 
bestowed  a  look  of  scorn,  hate  and  detestation,  upon  the 
man  before  her.  "  Would  you  murder  one  of  your  own 
flesh  ?  "Would  you  slay  your  own  daughter  ?  Listen  to  me, 
Alexander  Borgia ;  I  have  a  tale  to  tell  thee  that  will 
freeze  thy  soul  with  nameless  horror.  Many  years  ago, 
thou  didst  woo  and  win  the  love  of  a  fair  Italian  girl, 
named  Donna  Zuella.  She  was  my  sister.  You  won  her 
confidence,  and,  by  means  of  that  confidence,  as  swayed  by 
her  affection,  .effected  her  ruin.  The  fruit  of  your  connec- 
tion was  a  child,  —  a  daughter " 

"  True,  most  true,"  muttered  Borgia. 

"  At  about  the  same  time,  you  made  the  acquaintance 
of  a  noble  Italian  lady,  named  Senorita  Caselli,  whom  you 
professed  to  love,  but  who  did  not  regard  you  with  a 
single  feeling  of  affection.  You  deserted  my  sister,  and 
she  swore  revenge.  Learning  that  her  rival,  the  object 
of  your  love,  the  noble  Lady  Caselli,  would  become  a 
mother  at  about  the  same  time  her  own  child  was  born, 
she  determined  to  change  the  children  in  their  cradles — " 

"  'T  is  false !  "  cried  Borgia,  passionately,  as  a  hot  flush 
appeared  upon  his  face,  and  his  form  fairly  quivered  with 
excitement.  "  False  as  hell !  " 

"  I  pledge  my  life  to  its  truth.  The  children  ivere 
changed  by  the  nurse  in  the  employ  of  my  sister.  The 
noble  lady's  child  grew  up  in  poverty,  while  my  sister's 
child  —  your  child,  Alexander  Borgia  —  was  tenderly 
cared  for  by  the  Senorita  Caselli,  who  deemed  it  her 
own." 

"  Liar  !  This  be  thy  passport  to  hell,  where  you  can 
tell  the  story  to  the  fiends !  "  cried  the  madly-excited  man, 
as  he  drew  his  dagger  and  plunged  it  to  the  hilt  in  mad 


ALEXANDEB   BORGL1.  75 

Seta's  bosoin,  who  instantly  fell  to  the  floor  in  the  agonies 
of  death. 

"  I  spoke  the  truth,"  she  gasped,  "  and  here  is  the 
proof,"  and  she  drew  forth  the  papers  that  had  been  given 
her  by  her  sister.  "  Take  these  papers ;  they  will  tell 
you  all,  —  how  the  child  of  which  I  have  spoken,  your 
child,  lived  with  the  Lady  Caselli  until  that  estimable 
woman  died ;  how  the  girl  was  then  adopted  by  you ; 
how  you  reared  her ;  how  she  grew  up  in  the  belief  that 
you  were  her  father.  Ay,  and  that  child  now  stands 
before  you  in  the  person  of  Lucretia  Borgia !  " 

"  'T  is  false  !  "  again  cried  Borgia,  with  an  agony  it  was 
terrible  to  behold. 

"  They  are  my  dying  words ;  and,  by  my  hope  of 
heaven,  I  swear  that  they  are  true,  as  these  papers  will 
convince  you.  Pope  Alexander  VI.,  you  have  committed 
incest,  —  you  have  seduced  your  own  daughter .'  " 

They  were  the  last  words  she  uttered.  They  had 
scarcely  left  her  lips  when  life  departed. 

A  wild,  fearful  cry  of  horror  and  excitement  rang 
throughout  the  room,  and  Lucretia  Borgia  sank  down  in  a 
fainting-fit. 

And  he,  the  incestuous  father,  the  priestly  libertine, 
turned  deathly  pale,  and  raised  his  hands  to  his  eyes  as  if 
to  shut  out  a  horrid  vision^  as  he  shrieked,  in  a  husky 
voice : 

"  Damned,  —  doubly  damned ! " 


BOOK    THIRD. 


I. 

A    POPE'S   OPINION   OF   HIMSELF   AND   ROMANISM. 

ANOTHER  week  had  passed.  It  was  early  in  the  even- 
ing. The  sky  was  radiant  with  the  orbs  of  night,  which 
made  it  a  jewelled  veil  of  heaven. 

Pope  Alexander  VI.  sat  alone  in  his  richly-furnished 
apartment,  but  in  no  pleasant  mood.  An  evil  gleam  was 
in  his  eyes,  a  look  of  anger  on  his  brow. 

"  This  affair  with  my  daughter  Lucretia  has  added  the 
finishing-stroke  to  '  Satan's  masterpiece,'  as  I  have  been 
termed,"  he  muttered.  "  Henceforth,  no  particle  of  man- 
hood, no  quality  of  mercy,  shall  have  a  place  in  my  nature ; 
but  all  that  is  infernal,  treacherous,  and  infamous,  shall 
be  enacted  in  both  my  public  and  private  life.  I  '11  make 
my  name  and  character  themes  for  universal  scorn  and 
execration ;  so  that  those  who  come  after  me  will  look 
upon  the  record  of  my  deeds  with  more  loathing  and  ab- 
horrence than  ever  was  felt  for  Satan  himself !  I  '11  be  a 
monster  in  every  species  of  depravity;  I'll  plunge  into 
every  order  of  dissipation  and  licentiousness ;  I  '11  be  the 
chief  of  assassins,  the  vilest  of  criminals,  and  the  most  in- 
famous of  priestly  libertines  !  " 

He  arose  to  his  feet,  and  began  to  walk  to  and  fro. 


ALEXANDER   BOKGIA.  77 

"  And  yet,"  he  added,  with  a  look  of  scorn  and  mockery 
that  would  have  done  honor  to  a  fiend,  —  "  and  yet,  though 
I  make  the  name  of  Alexander  Borgia  the  synonyme  of  all 
that  ia  infamous  and  abhorred,  will  I  not  still  be  '  His 
Holiness !  TIIE  MOST  HOLY  POPE  ALEXANDER  VI.'?  How 
the  fools  of  the  present  day,  the  mass,  the  ignorant  rab- 
ble, will  prostrate  themselves  in  the  dust  before  me ;  kiss 
my  toe  ;  adore  me  as  a  God  on  the  altar  of  St.  Peter's  ; 
and  regard  me  as  the  possessor  of  the  keys  of  heaven  ! 
And  how  the  modern  Catholic  church,  which  pretends  to  be 
so  holy  and  infallible,  will  claim  and  acknowledge  me  as 
one  of  the  legitima^|^cessors  of  St.  Peter,  and  as  a  ne- 
cessary link  in  th^nroasted  chain  of  apostolic  succession, 
while  there  shall  not  be  one  of  the  priests  of  Romanism,  at 
any  period  of  the  future,  but  that  will  know  my  character, 
and  thoroughly  loathe  and  execrate  me  in  his  heart,  though 
he  will  hold  me  up  as  a  head  of  the  Catholic  church  to  the 
poor  ignorant  fools  he  wishes  to  dupe ! !  There  is  not  one 
of  the  '  HOLY  FATIIEUS'  but  that  knows  and  believes  that 
the  religious  mummery  in  which  he  is  employed  is  the 
most  infamous  and  pernicious  of  humbugs  and  impositions. 
They  do  not  believe  in  the  infallibility  of  the  Pope,  nor  in 
any  of  the  doctrines  and  ceremonies  they  preach  and  enact 
under  the  name  of  religion.  They  know  that  full  one-half 
of  the  Popes  have  been  the  most  notorious  of  villains,  lib- 
ertines and  assassins  ;  and  would  declare,  if  they  spoke  the 
real  sentiments  of  their  hearts,  that  a  large  portion  of 
them  as  richly  deserved  hanging  as  did  Judas  Iscariot ! 
Ay,  the  very  men,  who  include  me  —  ?ne,  Alexander  Bor- 
gia —  as  a  link  in  their  elaborate  chain  of  apostolic  suc- 
cession, know  very  well  that  I  am  as  base,  corrupt, 
polluted,  and  as  infamous  a  monster  in  the  semblance  of 
7* 


78  THE   CRIMES   OF 

man  as  the  world  ever  produced  :  but  yet  they  address  me 
as  '  His  Holiness  !  '  '  The  Most  Holy ! ! '  and  rank  me  as 
a  successor  of  St.  Peter ! !  What  inconsistency,  what 
cant  and  hypocrisy,  what  living  infamy,  is  the  whole 
system  of  Catholicism  J  " 

Borgia  was  alone ;  so  it  need  not  seem  strange  that  he 
spoke  his  real  opinions,  and  spoke  the  truth. 
-N    "  Romanism,"  continued  the  Pope,  "  is  founded  on  the 
/    ignorance  of  the  many,  and  the  impudent  and  blasphemous 
J  assumption  of  the  few.     Its  gorgeous  and  magnificent  cer- 
J  emonies  are  not  instituted  to  render  religion  solemn  and 
I     impressive,  for  it  is  not  religion ;  nordoes  the  religion  of 
\   Jesjis  Christ  and  his  followers  recjurre  any  such  impres- 
\  siveness  as  is  gained  from  the  pageants  and  mummeries 
I  that  characterize  Catholicism.    The  ceremonies  of  Roman- 
I  ism  are  intended,  not  to  edify  and  solemnize   religion, 
but  to  blind  and  mystify  the  masses,  and  glorify  the  Pope, 
his  cardinals,  bishops,  and  priests  !     And  yet  these  fools, 
the  people,  these  blind,  servile  masses,  do  not  see  the  im- 
positions that  are  put  upon  them,  though   they  are  as 
glaring  as  the  light  of  day;  and,  if  they  will  be  such 
despicable  fools,  let  them  reap  the  reward  of  a  fool's  folly. 
If  the  people,  whether  in  Rome,  or  France,  or  any  other 
country,  will  be  priest-ridden, — will  be  subjugated,  morally 
and  mentally,  physically  and  politically,  by  an  impudent 
priesthood,  —  a  prison  and  chains  are  too  good  for  such  mis- 
used bodies  and  such  ignoble  souls  !  " 

Such  were  the  thoughts  of  Alexander  Borgia,  Pope  of 
Rome ;  such  are  the  thoughts  of  the  Catholic  priesthood 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  from  Archbishop  Hughes  down 
to  the  lowest  and  most  fallen  specimen  of  manhood  that 
exists  as  a  priest  of  Romanism. 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  79 

There  was  a  knock  .upon  the  door,  as  Borgia  concluded 
his  soliloquy.  He  opened  it,  and  beheld  a  servant,  who 
passed  him  several  letters,  and  retired.  The  Pope  was 
soon  busy  in  opening  and  reading  them. 


II. 

NEW    MYSTERIES   AND   DEEP   PLOTTING. 

""So,  Cardinal  Guillani  is  dead,"  soliloquized  the  Pope, 
after  he  had  read  the  first  letter.  "  How  much  richer  is 
our  treasury  by  his  sudden  departure  ?  Let  me  see  ;  the 
secretary  must  have  made  some  allusion  to  it.  Ah  !  here 
it  is." 

And,  as  he  glanced  at  some  figuring  on  the  corner  of  the 
page,  he  added  in  a  low  tone,  "  Fifteen  thousand  maravedi  ; 
that 's  not  so  small  a  sum  as  it  might  have  been.  'T  will 
prove  very  acceptable  to  the  funds  of  the  church  at  this 
moment." 

Pie  now  opened  the  second  letter.  A  frown  appeared 
upon  his  face  as  he  read  the  commencement,  and  it  deep- 
ened to  a  look  of  fierce  passion  as  he  read  on. 

"  By  Heavens  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  what  is  this  ?  The 
cardinals  complaining  of  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's.  And 
this  charge  —  that  the  mask  does  not  execute  their  decrees. 
Who  has  dared  to  breathe  a  word  to  that  effect  ?  Ha ! 
what  is  the  meaning  of  this  statement?  'Rumor  has 
reached  us  that  Michael  Delano  is  yet  alive,  and  that  the 
mask  has  abducted  the  daughter  of  the  old  man  to  further 
his  own  particular  ends  ! '  Some  one  has  gained  a  little 
knowledge,  and  made  a  great  noise  about  it.  I  must  see 
to  this  at  once.  Delano  is  not  dead  —  that  is  true ;  but  I 


OU  THE  CRIMES  OF 

have  kept  him  so  closely  and  securely  confined,  that  none 
could  have  gained  any  actual  information  in  reference  to 
him.  Yet  his  name  is  before  the  cardinals  !  There  is  a 
mystery  here,  which  I  must  unravel." 

The  Pope  remained  in  thought  a  moment ;  then  opened 
the  third  letter.  It  bore  the  private  seal  of  the  cardinals, 
and  was  from  the  pen  of  their  private  secretary.  Borgia 
read  the  commencement  of  it  aloud  : 

"  It  has  been  brought  to  our  notice  that  a  certain  young 
citizen,  whose  name  is  Hernaldo  Zinna  —  " 

The  Pope  sprang  to  his  feet  suddenly,  and  gazed  long 
and  attentively  upon  the  name. 

"  Hernaldo  Zinna  !"  he  exclaimecl,  at  length;  "Her- 
naldo is  the  name  of  La  Belle  Floretta's.  lover  !  Is  he  the 
person  alluded  to  in  this  note  ?  But  let  me  read  on,  and 
see  what  the  Council  says  in  reference  to  him." 

"  —  has  been  secretly  establishing  an  anti-Papal  so- 
ciety, and  taking  other  measures  that  tend  to  the  injury 
of  our  most  holy  Catholic  religion.  The  society  is  said  to 
already  number  a  large  portion  of  the  laboring  classes,  and 
holds  its  regular  meetings,  but  where  is  a  source  of  mys- 
tery. These  things  having  been  duly  considered,  we  have 
deemed  it  our  duty  to  lay  them  before  your  Holiness,  with 
the  hope  of  having  your  advice  on  the  matter." 

"  Hernaldo !  "  repeated  Alexander  VI.  again,  as  a  sig- 
nificant gleam  appeared  in  his  dark  eyes.  "  If  this  youth 
should  prove  to  be  the  lover  of  La  Belle  Floretta,  what  a 
weapon  I  shall  have  placed  in  my  hands  against  her,  and 
how  mercilessly  I  will  use  it  to  win  her  over  to  my 
wishes  !  —  Ah,  I  must  see  to  this.  Her  father  is  already 
in  my  power,  and  if  I  can  but  get  her  lover  in  my  clutches, 


ALEXANDER    BORGIA.  81 

I  shall  bo  doubly  armed  against  her  silly  resistance  to  my 
wishes,  and  will  soon  force  her  to  compliance  !  " 

There  was  something  in  the  current  his  thoughts  had 
now  taken  that  added  to  the  fierce  and  vindictive  look 
upon  his  features. 

44  Ay,  she  shall  be  mine,"  he  continued.  "  I  have  used 
gentle  means  during  the  past  week,  but  she  has  scorned 
and  despised  to  be  won  by  them.  I  '11  now  try  something 
more  serious.  If  the  poor  fool  but  knew  how  I  have  been 
duped,  —  how  my  own  daughter  became  the  victim  of  the 
revenge  that  was  meant  for  her,  —  ay,  if  she  but  knew  that 
she  is  the  daughter  of  Lady  Caselli,  she  would  not  care  to 
oppose  a  purpose  I  have  cherished  with  such  deadly  reso- 
lution. I  ?11  see  her  once  more,  and  learn  her  final  decis- 
ion. Once  more  ;  only  once  more  !  " 

Borgia  threw  the  letters  he  had  received  into  the  grate, 
and  prepared  to  leave  the  room.  A  new  thought  seemed 
to  rise  up  in  his  heart. 

44  Now  that  Guillani  is  dead,"  he  muttered,  44  why 
should  my  son  Caesar  not  be  chosen  to  fill  his  place  ?  'T  is 
a  good  idea ;  he  shall  be.  Cardinal  Caesar  Borgia  !  Tho 
name  has  a  pleasing  sound.  He  is  a  sadly-dissipated 
dog,  but  I  will  see  what  can  be  done  to  effect  a  change : 
firstly,  in  his  condition  ;  secondly,  in  his  principles.  But 
enough  of  Caesar,"  he*  added,  as  he  passed  from  the  room. 
"  Now  for  a  final  essay  at  fair  means  in  conquering  La 
Belle  Floretta ! " 


III. 

THE   FINAL   RESOLVE. 

LA    BELLE  FLORETTA  was  seated    alone  in  her  apart- 
ment.    A  look  of  the  deepest  anxiety  was  on  her  features. 


82  THE   CRIMES   01* 

"  O,  that  death  would  decide  for  me  !  "  she  murmured. 
"  The  Pope  has  given  me  but  one  choice,  — to  become  his 
mistress,  or  see  my  father  slain  by  the  tortures  of  the  In- 
quisition. He  told  me  to  decide  by  nine  o'clock,  when  he 
will  return  to  hear  my  decision  —  " 

She  glanced  at  the  horologue  upon  the  table  ;  she  saw 
that  the  hour  of  nine  had  just  arrived. 

And  even  as  she  uttered  an  exclamation  of  fear  and 
anxiety,  and  started  to  her  feet,  a  door  behind  her  opened, 
and  Borgia  entered. 

"  I  have  come,  dear  Floretta,  as  per-agreement,  to  know 
your  decision,"  he  quietly  observed,  with  a  mocking  smile. 
"  Will  you  be  my  mistress,  or  not  ?  " 

The  captive's  face  was  deathly  pale  ;  but  there  was  no 
fear  expressed  thereon,  nor  did  her  voice  tremble,  as  she 
replied  : 

"  You  have  already  heard  my  answer.  I  have  told  thee 
that  I  would  rather  die  than  consent  to  your  base  purpose, 
though  you  are  the  Pope  of  Rome,  and  a  Borgia  !  " 

The  form  ^>f  the  listener  fairly  quivered  with  passion, 
but  he  endeavored  to  appear  calm. 

"  You  are  very  brave,"  he  muttered,  with  a  forced  smilo 
that  made  him  appear  more  fiendish  and  brutal  than  when 
in  his  stormiest  mood  —  "  as  brave  as  you  are  beautiful !  " 

La  Belle  Floretta  made  no  reply,  but  turned  away 
and  seated  herself  in  a  chair,  while  a  look  of  scorn  and 
contempt  appeared  on  her  features. 

"  I  see  you  are  in  no  mood  for  conversation,"  observed 
Borgia,  and  the  expression  of  his  face  became  still  more 
devilish  and  menacing.  "  I  will  leave  you,  and  send  your 
father  to  comfort  you." 

"  My  father !  "   cried   Floretta,   starting  to  her  feet. 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  83 

"  Will  you  indeed  allow  my  father  to  come  and  see 
me?" 

"  I  will,  indeed  !  " 

"  0,  thanks  —  thanks  !    Do  this,  and  I  will  bless  you." 

"  Save  your  thanks,  dear  Floretta,"  he  added,  with  bit- 
ter sarcasm,  "  until  you  know  my  object  in  sending  your 
father  to*  your  presence  !  " 

The  look  that  mantled  Borgia's  face,  as  he  said  this, 
would  have  wrung  an  exclamation  of  horror  from  the  girl 
had  she  observed  it,  it  was  so  diabolical  and  menacing. 

"  And  if  you  are  not  satisfied  with  your  father's  society, 
I  will  send  another,  a  friend  of  yours — I  should  say, 
your  lover,  whose  name  is  Hernaldo  Zinna  !  " 

Floretta  recoiled  from  him,  uttering  a  shriek  of  terror, 
and  sank  back  upon  a  sofa,  almost  in  a  state  of  insensi- 
bility. 

"  I  thought  there  was  a  cause  for  your  refusal  to  accept 
of  my  proposition,"  observed  Borgia,  as  his  dark  eyes 
emitted  a  vengeful  gleam.  "  You  love  this  Hernaldo 
Zinna  very  much,  I  suppose  !  " 

"  Monster  !  is  he,  too,  in  your  power  ?  "  exclaimed 
Floretta. 

"  Not  exactly,"  was  the  reply,  "  but  I  presume  he  soon 
will  be,  if  the  visit  I  shall  now  allow  your  father  to  make 
you  does  not  prove  satisfactory  to  all  concerned,  and  espe- 
cially so  to  myself.  But  farewell  for  the  present.  Ex- 
pect your  father  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour  ;  and  so  — 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  bidding  you  adieu !  " 

It  was  no  common  look  that  flitted  over  the  features  of 
the  Pope  as  he  passed  from  the  apartment.  It  spoke  of 
long-cherished  hate,  and  a  fearfully-planned  revenge ! 


84  THE   CRIMES   OF 


THE   SECRET    CONCLAVE. 

A  VAST  hall,  under  ground,  and  near  the  Tiber.  It  was 
dimly  lighted.  In  the  centre  a  number  of  men  were 
seated  around  a  table.  Their  dusky  features,  half  re- 
vealed by  the  rays  that  fell  upon  them,  wore  a  calm  look 
of  determination,  such  as  bespeak  noble  qualities  and  dar- 
ing souls. 

"  We  are  all  here,"  muttered  a  member  of  the  party, 
who  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table  ;  "  ten  of  us  in  all  !  " 

"  Ay,"  was  the  response  of  a  person  at  one  end  of  the 
hall,  as  he  closed  and  barred  the  door  by  which  all  had 
gained  admittance.  He  then  came  forward,  and,  throwing 
off  a  cloak  and  mask  he  had  worn  for  the  purpose  of  dis- 
guise, seated  himself  in  the  midst  of  the  group. 

There  was  that  in  his  actions  and  appearance  that  would 
have  proclaimed  him  the  leader  of  the  men  in  whose 
presence  he  was  seated.  We  may  add  that  he  was  no 
other  than  Hernaldo  Zinna,  the  lover  of  La  Belle  Floretta. 
He  was  young  —  evidently  not  more  than  two-and-twcnty 
years  of  age,  of  prepossessing  appearance,  and  with  a 
countenance  that  evinced  courage  and  manliness. 

"  Brothers,"  he  observed,  in  a  clear,  ringing  tone,  "  I 
need  not  speak  of  what  we  are,  nor  dwell  upon  the  aims 
of  this  organization.  You  all  know  that  we  are  Italian 
artisans,  met  together  for  the  attainment  of  mental  and 
political  supremacy,  and  for  the  protection  of  our  rights. 
Our  numbers  are  few,  but  are  every  day  increasing.  Our 
chief  object  is  the  redemption  of  our  own  class  from  the 
grasp  of  Popery,  and  the  establishment  of  the  true  religion. 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  85 

Down  with  Popery !  —  down  with  the  Inquisition !  and 
down  with  oppressors  of  the  poor !  Such  are  the  thoughts 
that  shall  be  sacredly  and  secretly  guarded  in  our  hearts, 
until  we  have  become  strong  enough  to  wrest  the  chains 
that  bind  us.  Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

A  murmur  of  approbation  went  round  the  table. 

"  Perhaps  I  have  had  greater  cause  to  take  the  position 
I  have,"  continued  Zinna,  "  than  most  of  you.  One  who 
was  very  dear  to  me  —  a  young  lady  —  has,  as  near  as  I 
can  learn,  been  abducted  by  Alexander  Borgia,  and  is 
now  confined  in  his  palace.  God  only  knows  what  her 
fate  has  been,  or  what  it  may  be  ;  I  should  go  mad  were  I 
to  think  upon  the  subject.  I  have  made  every  possible 
exertion  to  learn  something  in  reference  to  her,  but  have 
failed." 

"  If  she  is  alive,  she  shall  be  saved,  if  we  have  to  tear 
down  the  Pontifical  palace  !  "  said  the  secretary  of  the 
"  Leaguers,"  in  a  low,  resolute  tone. 

"  In  addition  to  this,  my  dearest  friend,  Mercado, 
was  arrested  by  the  officers  of  the  Inquisition.  Two  long, 
dreary  weeks  have  passed  by  since  that  time,  and  yet  I 
have  not  gained  any  tidings  relative  to  his  fate.  It  is  my 
belief  that  he  has  been  slain  by  the  accursed  emissaries 
of  the  church,  or  been  incarcerated  in  a  loathsome  dun- 
geon." 

"  Your  wrongs  are  indeed  great,"  said  the  secretary ; 
"  but  I  do  not  believe  that  a  heart  now  beats  in  this  room 
that  is  not  pledged  to  avenge  you." 

"  Thanks,  my  friends,  —  my  brothers !  But  while  the 
cases  I  have  mentioned  show  how  insecure  are  the  meagre 
rights  possessed  by  the  artisans,  the  laboring  people,  both 
male  and  female,  there  may  be  others  brought  personally 


86  THE   CRIMES   OF 

home  to  more  than  one  of  you,  to  urge  you  more  surely 
and  determinedly  to  vengeance  !  Brothers  !  let  the  good 
work  to  which  we  have  pledged  our  lives  go  on.  Years 
may  pass  away  before  we  can  attain  a  force  sufficient  to 
warrant  us  in  taking  a  stand  of  open  hostility  to  the 
church;  thousands  and  thousands  of  the  poor  may  be 
slain  and  tortured  to  death  in  the  mean  time ;  but  let  their 
sacred  memory  be  cherished  j  let  their  tears  and  groans 
be  registered  on  earth  as  well  as  in  heaven,  and  we  will 
eventually  have  a  great  and  glorious  revenge  !  " 

Hernaldo  Zinna  arose  to  his  feet  as  he  spoke,  and  re- 
sumed his  cloak  and  mask. 

"  Brothers,"  he  proceeded,  "  let  all  whom  you  have 
prepared  to  join  the  league  be  proposed  to  the  secret  con- 
clave to-morrow  evening.  Beware  of  traitors  ;  and  speak 
not  of  our  order  to  any  one,  until  you  have  learned  that 
they  will  gladly  join  it,  and  forever  remain  true  !  " 

The  men  all  arose,  and  uttered  their  assent.  Hernaldo 
moved  forward  and  opened  the  massive  door  by  which 
they  had  entered,  and  they  passed  out  into  a  dark  passage, 
one  by  one.  When  all  were  gone,  Hernaldo  followed  them, 
closing  the  door  securely  behind  him.  The  passage-way 
branched  off  in  several  directions,  all  of  which  led  to  the 
bank  of  the  river.  The  commander  of  the  Leaguers  took 
the  centre  passage,  and  was  soon  by  the  water's  edge, 
where  a  small  boat  was  lying.  Springing  into  it,  he  cast 
off,  and  was  soon  floating  silently  down  the  river. 


ALEXANDER   BOKGIA.  87 

V. 

THE   FEARFUL   DISCOVERY. 

ON  the  Tiber!  The  night  was  serenely  beautiful. 
Above,  the  stars  were  shining  with  their  greatest  splendor  ; 
below,  many  a  light  gleamed  o'er  the  rippling  waters,  and 
many  a  fairy-like  boat  was  floating  down  the  tide,  freighted 
with  brave  men  and  lovely  women,  who  were  rapt  in  the 
enjoyment  of  the  scene. 

Zinna  did  not  labor  at  the  oars,  but  gave  himself  up 
to  the  thoughts  that  arose  in  his  heart,  and  allowed  the 
boat  to  float  wherever  the  current  chose  to  carry  it.  More 
than  once  did  he  come  into  collision  with  the  boats  of  oth- 
ers, and  many  a  curse  did  he  receive  for  his  negligence ; 
but  all  were  unheeded. 

"  There  is  a  great  and  glorious  project  within  my  soul," 
he  murmured ;  "  one  to  enchain  my  waking  thoughts  and 
rule  my  dreams.  God  only  knows  whether  I  shall  live  to 
execute  it ;  but  there  is  a  secret  consciousness  in  my 
heart  of  my  having  been  born  for  greatness.  Men  might 
call  me  wild  or  boyish,  if  they  knew  what  great  enter- 
prises have  sprung  up  in  my  heart ;  if  they  but  knew  how 
sternly  I  have  determined  to  leave  a  name  upon  the  scroll 
of  fame  that  time  nor  change  can  ever  efface  !  " 

He  paused,  and  relapsed'into  a  sullen  revery. 

The  boat  floated  silently  on  for  the  space  of  half  an 
hour,  when  Zinna  roused  himself  up,  and  saw  that  he  was 
near  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  and  nearly  opposite  his 
own  residence.  He  therefore  seized  the  oars  and  rowed 
the  boat  towards  its  usual  landing-place,  which  he  soon 
reached. 


88  THE   CRIMES    OP 

Springing  ashore,  the  young  man  proceeded  to  secure 
his  boat  to  the  rude  wharf,  and  then  turned  to  walk  tow- 
ards the  cottage  where  he  resided ;  but  ere  he  had  taken 
two  steps  in  that  direction,  he  recoiled  with  an  exclama- 
tion of  horror. 

For  there,  upon  the  edge  of  the  wharf,  where  it  had 
been  cast  by  the  waters  of  the  Tiber,  lay  a  ghastly 
corpse ! 

It  was  the  body  of  Mercado ! 

The  ghastly  features  of  the  dead  were  rendered  still 
more  white  and  unearthly  in  appearance  by  the  pale  rays 
of  the  moon  and  stars  that  shone  upon  them  ! 

"  O,  God,  it  is  Mercado!"  cried  Zinna,  as  he  knelt 
beside  the  body.  "Dead! — stabbed  to  the  heart ;  and 
many  days  ago,  if  I  may  judge  from  appearances.  Who 
has  done  this  work  —  ?  " 

"  The  mask  of  St.  Peter's  !  "  was  the  reply,  in  a  sharp, 
clear  voice,  that  seemed  to  come  from  close  beside  him. 

Zinna  started,  and  looked  carefully  around. 

"  It  might  have  been  my  over-excited  fancy,"  he  solilo- 
quized. "  Ha,  what  is  here  ?  A  paper,  written  upon  and 
tucked  beneath  his  belt.  What  can  it  be  ?  " 

Hernaldo  drew  forth  the  paper  he  had  discovered,  hand- 
ling it  very  carefully,  for  it  was  still  wet,  and  the  writing 
was  almost  blotted  out.  Enough  was  left,  however,  to 
convince  him  of  the  nature  of  the  document,  and  a  groan 
escaped  him  as  he  realized  the  truth. 

For  he  held  the  death-warrant  of  Mercado,  signed  by 
the  secretary  of  the  cardinals,  and  addressed  to  the  mask 
of  St.  Peter's ! 

The  youth  spoke  not  —  uttered  no  sound.  His  tongue 
seemed  to  have  lost  its  power  of  speech ;  his  heart  seemed 


ALEXANDER    BORGIA.  89 

like  a  weight  of  iron  within  his  bosom.  But  he  knelt  beside 
the  body  of  his  murdered  friend,  and,  raising  his  pale  and 
rigid  face  towards  heaven,  he  clasped  his  hands  and 
breathed  a  silent  oath  of  vengeance!  Then  he  arose; 
cast  a  single  look  upon  the  form  of  Mercado,  and  rushed 
wildly  from  the  spot. 

A  wild  laugh  followed  him,  and  ere  he  had  vanished 
from  view  a  dusky  form  came  forth  from  the  little  cabin 
in  the  bow  of  the  boat  —  the  very  boat  that  belonged  to 
Hernaldo ! 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  this  personage,  in  a  voice  of  devil- 
ish exultation,  as  he  drew  up  his  form  and  gazed  towards 
Zinna's  house. 

The  laugh  was  echoed  in  hell ;  for  the  one  who  uttered 
it  was  a  familiar  of  the  Inquisition ! 


VI. 

BORGIA'S  CRUELTY. 

A  ROOM  in  the  palace  occupied  by  the  mask  of  St.  Pe- 
ter's. Enter  the  mask,  and  an  Inquisitor. 

The  face  of  the  latter,  though  thin  and  emaciated,  wore 
an  expression  that  characterizes  a  wily,  cunning  Jesuit 
of  modern  times.  His  small  gray  eyes  seemed  formed  to 
read  all  things  that  were  transpiring  around  him.  He 
wore  the  black  cloak  and  cowl  that  is  always  worn  by 
those  of  his  profession. 

"  Father  Janzen,"  said  the  mask,  "  I  have  sent  for  you 
that  I  might  make  arrangements  for  the  admission  of  an 
old  man  and  his  daughter  into  the  Inquisition,  within  the 
hour." 

8* 


90  THE   CRIMES   OF 

"'Tis  weft,"  replied  the  Inquisitor,  in  a  sepulchral 
tone. 

"  Who  they  are,  and  what  they  are,  is  immaterial  to 
you.  I  hold  the  seal  of  {he  Pope  for  what  I  do,  and 
pledge  my  life  to  the  honor  and  justness  of  my  actions." 

"  Your  word  is  law,"  was  all  the  reply  the  Inquisitor 
made. 

The  mask  seized  his  companion  by  the  arm. 

"  Dare  you  receive  a  secret,"  he  said,  "  that  it  would 
cost  you  your  life  to  betray  ?  " 

The  Inquisitor  nodded  assent. 

"  Then  know  you  that  this  young  lady  is  one  whom  the 
Pope  wishes  to  become  his  mistress.  He  will  put  her  to 
the  torture  to  obtain  her  consent  to  his  wishes.  That 
beauteous  form  will  be  stretched  upon  the  rack ;  those  ex- 
quisitely-moulded limbs  will  be  bound  with  heavy  cords ; 
that  fair  skin  will  be  marred  with  many  an  instrument  of 
torture.  Ha,  ha  !  I  '11  feast  upon  her  sufferings ;  I  '11 
gloat  over  her  agony !  But,  list  you ;  not  one  word  to 
others  from  your  lips  on  this  subject,  if  you  value  your 
life  !  "  and  he  laid  his  hand  significantly  upon  his  dagger. 

"  I  understand,"  muttered  the  Inquisitor,  with  profes- 
sional calmness. 

"  This  lady,"  continued  the  mask,  "  is  now  in  the  pal- 
ace of  the  Borgias.  She  will  be  freed,  as  will  her  father ; 
and  both  will  be  at  liberty  to  depart  for  their  homes,  as 
soon  as  they  can  meet  and  get  ready  —  say  an  hour 
hence." 

"  Then  what  have  I  to  do  with  torturing  either  of 
them  ?  "  asked  the  Inquisitor. 

"Do  you  not  see  the  refinement  of  my  cruelty ?  They 
will  hasten  home;  they  will  congratulate  themselves  that 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  91 

they  have  been  mercifully  released  from  the  surveillance 
of  the  church ;  then,  the  very  moment  when  they  seem  at 
the  height  of  their  freedom  and  happiness,  you — you, 
Father  Janzen,  and  a  party  of  your  officers,  shall  wake 
them  from  their  momentary  dream,  and  drag  them  to  the 
Inquisition,  where  I  will  meet  you,  and  then  shall  they 
know  what  it  is  to  defy  a  Borgia  !  " 

"  I  understand  your  plan.  Have  you  any  further 
orders  ?  " 

"  None  at  present.  I  will  send  a  messenger  when  you 
are  required." 

The  Inquisitor  bowed  assent,  and  retired  from  the  apart- 
ment, while  the  mask  rang  a  bell,  and  threw  himself  into 
a  chair. 


VII. 


THE  ring  was  answered  by  the  appearance  of  a  ser- 
vant. 

"  Go  to  Delano,"  commanded  the  mask,  •'  and  inform 
him  that  I  wish  to  see  him  here  immediately.  Tell  him 
that  I  have  pleasant  news,  and  show  him  the  way." 

The  man  bowed  and  retired. 

"  I  will  send  him  to  La  Belle  Floretta,"  soliloquized 
the  mask,  "and  may  she  reap  much  joy  from  the  visit!  " 

There  was  a  sinister  look  upon  his  face,  and  a  sullen 
gleam  of  anticipated  triumph  in  his  eyes,  as  ne  uttered  the 
words. 

The  door  opened,  and  Delano  entered.     The  face  of  the 


U2  THE   CRIMES   OF 

old  man  was  somewhat  paler  than  when  we  last  saw  him  ; 
but  he  endeavored  to  appear  calm  and  assume  a  smile. 

"  The  servant  said  that  you  had  pleasant  news  for  me," 
he  observed,  as  he  seated  himself  in  the  chair  placed  for 
him.  "  If  you  have,  you  will  speak  in  reference  to  my 
daughter,  and  tell  me  —  " 

"  That  she  is  well,  and  that  it  is  decided  that  you  pay 
her  a  visit  at  once." 

"  0,  thanks !  —  thanks  for  this  most  unexpected  kind- 
ness !  " 

"  You  have  doubtless  suspected  what  the  intentions 
were  that  I  entertained  in  reference  to  your  daughter  at 
the  time  you  first  beheld  her  in  my  palace.  I  had  been 
smitten  by  her  beauty,  and  had  formed  a  resolve  to  make 
her  mine,  by  fair  means  or  foul ;  but  it  is  a  source  of  pleas- 
ure for  me  to  give  you  the  gratifying  assurance  that  I  have 
concluded  to  forego  that  evil  design  —  " 

"  0,  noble  man !  how  shall  I  ever  repay  you  for  this 
generous  act  ?  " 

"  The  cause  of  this  somewhat  strange  proceeding  was  a 
desire  to  add  to  your  daughter's  happiness.  Listen  to  me, 
Delano.  Your  daughter  has  been  seen  by  the  Pope.  He 
has  offered  to  make  her  his  mistress  —  " 

The  old  man  groaned  aloud,  and  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands. 

"  Nuy,  he  has  resolved  that  she  shall  be  his  mistress," 
continued  the  mask.  "  Think  of  this,  Delano.  Smile  and 
be  happy  at  the  honor  that  is  conferred  on  you  and  her. 
Your  daughter  the  mistress  of  a  Pope  !  Think  of  that,  and 
let  us  hear  no  more  of  those  silly  harpings  on  virtue  and 
womanly  purity,  and  kindred  shallow  subjects.  Drink,  fill 
up  your  glass ;  be  as  merry  as  the  merriest.  There  are 


ALEXANDER  BOKQIA.  9o 

glorious  times  in  store  for  you.  Floretta  has  touched  the 
right  chord  in  the  Pope's  heart.  He  will  make  her  noble, 
wealthy.  She  will  live  in  the  midst  of  every  luxury  and 
splendor,  and  time  shall  pass  on  in  a  continual  round  of 
gayety  and  enjoyment.  A  palace  will  open  its  portals  to 
her ;  troops  of  servants  will  be  in  readiness  to  obey  her 
slightest  wish ;  and'  you,  Delano,  shall  live  like  a  lord 
and  feast  like  a  king;  ay,  even  with  the  Pope  himself!  " 

"  I  ?  "  muttered  Delano,  confused  and  bewildered  by  the 
words  of  his  companion. 

"  Ay,  you  !  As  the  father  of  the  beauteous  Floretta, 
you  will  be  treated  with  every  respect  and  attention  by 
the  Pope,  if  you  but  use  your  influence  towards  gaining 
her  consent  to  his  wishes." 

"  I  would  !  — I  would  !•"  responded  Delano,  dazzled  by 
the  picture  that  had  been  presented  ;  "  but  she  is  engaged 
to  be  married  to  a  poor  but  worthy  young  man,  Hernaldo 
Zinna." 

"  Never  mind  him,"  and  the  mask  frowned  at  this  allu- 
sion. "  Would  you  see  your  daughter  wedded  to  a  beg- 
gar ?  Fie,  fie,  Delano !  Have  you  no  more  regard  for 
her  happiness  than  to  think  of  such  a  thing  ?  She  is  a 
queen. in  beauty,  in  heart,  in  everything  that  makes  a 
queen,  save  rank  and  wealth ;  and  neither  of  these  quali- 
fications will  be  long  wanting,  if  she  will  but  consent  to 
Borgia's  wishes.  He  will  make  you  and  her  respected 
and  happy  ;  he  will  be  the  sincere  friend  of  both.  Then 
why  will  you  hesitate  ?  Go  to  her  at  once ;  tell  her  to 
accept  the  offer  that  is  made  her  —  " 

"  I  will  do  so !  "  cried  Delano,  starting  to  his  feet. 

The  mask  took  hold  of  his  arm,  and  bent  his  dark  eye 
Eteriily  upon  his  face. 


94  THE   CRIMES    OF 

"  Let  there  be  no  treachery  in  this  business,"  he  re- 
marked, in  a  significant  tone.  "  The  Pope  has  set  his 
heart  upon  this  design ;  and  if  you  refuse  to  second  him 
by  interceding  with  Floretta,  or  if  she  will  not  consent, 
death  and  torture  are  before  you  both  !  Do  you  under- 
stand ?  " 

"  I  do,  but " 

"  No  hesitation,"  said  the  mask,  sternly.  "  Away  at 
once.  In  the  next  saloon  you  will  find  those  who  are  to 
attend  you  to  the  palace.  They  will  first  blindfold  you, 
as  a  precautionary  measure  ;  but  do  not  be  alarmed ;  they 
will  conduct  you  in  safety." 

«  But » 

"  You  have  your  final  orders.  See  that  they  are  exe- 
cuted !  "  and  he  conducted  him  almost  fainting  from  the 
apartment. 


VIII. 

BELEASE   OF   THE   CAPTIVES. 

THE  meeting  between  La  Belle  Floretta  and  her  father 
was  most  affecting.  The  old  man  clasped  her  to  his  heart, 
and  she  wept  like  a  child  upon  his  bosom. 

But  Delano  was  sad  and  gloomy.  The  first  delight  of 
reunion  having  passed  away,  a  look  of  terrible  anxiety 
appeared  on  his  features. 

"  We  have  met,  my  child,  but  for  a  terrible  purpose  has 
this  meeting  been  designed ;  "  and  then  he  went  on  to  tell 
her  all  that  had  passed  between  the  mask  and  himself,  — 
even  to  the  pledging  of  his  influence  for  her  consent  to  the 
wishes  of  the  Pope.  At  this  point,  Floretta's  excitement, 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  95 

which  had  been  gradually  increasing  as  he  proceeded  in 
his  revelations,  became  so  great  that  she  could  remain 
silent  no  longer. 

"  What !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  she  recoiled  from  her 
father  with  an  exclamation  of  horror,  "  have  you  been 
won  over  to  the  infamous  designs  of  the  Po^e  ?  Has  he 
indeed  influenced  you  to  counsel  me  to  this  most  inhuman 
deed  ?  " 

"  Forgive  me,  my  child,"  cried  the  old  man,  sinking 
into  a  chair.  "  I  was  weak,  and  he  painted  a  picture  of 
luxury  and  happiness  that  dazzled  me  for  the  moment." 

"  Happiness !  "  repeated  Floretta,  with  a  vehemence 
that  startled  her  listener.  "  Would  you  sell  your  child  to 
such  a  monster  as  Alexander  Borgia  for  gold  ?  If  so, 
know  you  that  I  will  never  consent  to  his  wishes.  He 
may  kill,  but  he  cannot  enslave  me.  Do  you  not  know 
that  I  am  betrothed  to  Hernaldo  Zinna  ?  " 

"I  do  —  I  do!" 

"  Then  you  should  have  more  respect  for  him  than  to 
counsel  me  to  such  a  course,  —  a  course  I  would  not  adopt 
were  the  penalty  of  my  refusal  ten  thousand  deaths  !  " 

"  Nor  need  you,  fair  Floretta  !  "  said  the  voice  of  Bor- 
gia. He  hud  entered  unperceived,  and  now  stood  beside 
them. 

"  I  see  that  you  are  surprised,"  he  continued,  "  as  you 
may  well  be,  at  this  sudden  change  in  my  demeanor.  But 
you  have  yet  to  learn  that  there  is  no  man,  however  bad, 
but  that  has  his  moments  of  calm  and  rational  reflection, 
when  he  sees  the  deformity  of  his  nature  in  its  true  light. 
I  have  thought  of  the  relative  position  in  which  we  .stand 
to  each  other,  and  sincerely  regret  that  I  have  been  urged 
to  such  an  evil  course  by  my  impulsive  nature.  Floretta 


Ub  THE  CRIMES  01 

—  Delano  —  I  have  wronged  you  both  ;  but  as  far  as  I 
can  make  reparation,  I  am  determined  to  do  so.  You  are 
both  free —  this  moment  free,  to  return  to  your  home  !  " 

The  listeners  could  scarcely  credit  their  senses,  but 
stared  vacantly  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  I  repeat,"  continued  Borgia,  "  the  doors  of  the  palace 
are  open  before  you ;  you  are  as  free  as  air  to  depart ; 
all  I  ask  is  that,  when  you  hear  curses  and  execrations 
showered  upon  my  name,  you  will  remember  me  as  one 
whose  heart  was  not  entirely  dead  to  the  qualities  and 
attributes  of  manhood  !  " 

Delano  reeled  and  staggered  back  into  a  chair,  while 
Floretta  sank  down  before  the  Pope.  Both  were  entirely 
overcome  by  this  unexpected  conduct. 

"Nay,  not  a  word,"  said  Borgia,  with  a  smile.  "  Your 
thanks  are  not  needed ;  I  have  only  done  that  which  it 
V*  was  my  duty  as  a  man  to  do.  Hasten  home,  and  be 
happy !  " 

He  turned  suddenly  as  he  spoke,  and  retired  from  the 
apartment,  while  Floretta  clasped  her  father  in  a  fond 
embrace,  and  exclaimed, 

"  Saved  —  saved,  my  father !  " 

"  Yes,  thank  Heaven  !  But  let  us  hasten  from  this  gild- 
ed abode  of  crime  and  infamy !  "  responded  Delano,  as 
they  arose  and  passed  from  the  room. 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  Borgia,  entering  the  apartment  as 
they  departed,  and  there  was  Satanic  joy  in  every  look, 
and  word,  and  action,  as  he  gazed  after  them.  "  Thus 
have  I  planned  my  revenge,  and  now  for  the  Inquisition !  " 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  97 

IX. 

FEARS   AND   HOPES. 

AN  hour  had  elapsed.  The  scene  —  a  room  in  Delano's 
cottage.  It  stood  iu  an  obscure  portion  of  the  city,  but 
was  neat  in  appearance,  and  comfortable. 

Delano,  his  daughter,  and  Hernaldo  Zinna,  were  seated 
therein.  The  old  man  had  just  been  revealing  the  partic- 
ulars of  the  release  of  himself  and  daughter  from  the 
pontifical  palace.  Hernaldo  pondered  over  the  informa- 
tion several  moments  before  he  made  any  reply. 

"  There  's  a  deep  mystery  in  this  affair,"  he  observed,  at 
last.  "  After  Borgia  had  taken  so  much  trouble  to  obtain 
possession  of  Floretta,  and  given  her  proof  of  his  dishon- 
orable intentions  in  such  base  proposals  as  he  has  made, 
it  is  really  strange  that  he  should  have  released  you  both 
in  this  unexpected  manner." 

"  It  is,  indeed." 

"  So  strange,  and  so  much  at  variance  with  his  known 
character,"  continued  Zinna,  "  that  I  cannot  help  but  think 
that  he  is  influenced  by  some  questionable  motive.  I  fear 
that  the  danger  now  escaped  will  overtake  you  in  a  more 
deadly  form  at  some  future  time.  Did  you  not  say  that 
the  mask  of  St.  Peter's  holds  a  warrant  from  the  cardinals 
for  your  death?  " 

"  I  did." 

"  Are  you  sure  that  he  has  such  a  document  in  his  pos- 
session ?  " 

"  Quite  sure,  for  I  have  seen  it." 

"  The  mystery  deepens,"  muttered  Zinna,  with  a  still 
more  serious  look.  "  If  the  mask  has  indeed  a  warrant 
9 


98  THE   CRIMES   OF 

for  your  death,  he  should  be  aware  that  it  will  cost  him 
his  life,  must  the  cardinals  be  informed  that  he  has  thus 
spared  and  freed  one  whom  they  have  condemned.  Ha  ! 
A  terrible  thought  takes  possession  of  me  :  it  is  possible 
that  the  cardinals  have  doomed  us  all  to  death,  and  that 
the  mask  of  St.  Peter's  intends  to  perform  his  dread  task 
this  very  night.  Good  or  evil  is  most  certainly  intended 
to  grow  out  of  this  strange  affair  ;  but  I  cannot  —  cannot 
believe  that  Borgia  intends  any  good." 

"  There  is  cause  for  fear,  —  that  is  undeniable ;  but  let 
us  all  hope  for  the  best,"  said  Delano,  as  he  arose,  took  a 
light  from  the  table,  and  retired,  adding,  as  he  reached  the 
door,  "  Good-night,  my  children ;  I  am  fatigued  somewhat 
more  than  usual,  and  must  to  bed." 

"  Good-night,"  responded  each  of  the  lovers,  and  the 
old  man  left  them  alone. 

"Thank  Heaven,  that  you  are  both  restored  to  me," 
said  Zinna.  "  You  do  not  know  what  terrible  anxiety  I 
have  endured  during  the  last  two  weeks.  I  had  almost 
given  you  up  for  dead  !  " 

"  Do  not  speak  of  it ;  the  remembrance  of  what  I  have 
undergone  makes  me  shudder,  even  now  !  " 

The  youth  gazed  still  more  earnestly  upon  her.  A 
slight  blush  heightened  the  color  of  her  cheeks. 

"  I  understand  your  thought,  dear  Hernaldo,"  she  mur- 
mured ;  "  but  I  assure  you  that  Borgia  did  not  execute 
his  most  foul  and  unholy  intention." 

Zinna  clasped  her  to  his  heart,  and  pressed  his  lips  to 
her  own  with  all  the  fondness  of  ardent  love  and  admira- 
tion. And  she  returned  his  caresses,  not  with  the  bashful- 
ness  of  untold  love,  not  with  the  freedom  of  guilty  passion, 
but  with  the  gentle  and  modest  trust  and  devotion  that 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  99 

ever  characterizes  the  affection  of  a  true  woman.  She 
did  not  blush  as  she  reclined  in  his  arms,  and  rested  upon 
his  manly  breast,  looking  up  into  his  eyes  with  a  look  of 
unutterable  love,  —  did  not  start  as  he  drew  her  close  to 
his  warmly-beating  heart,  kissed  her  again  and  again,  and 
whispered,  in  the  low  tones  of  love,  "  Mine  —  all  mine 
own  ! "  Why  should  she  blush  or  tremble  ?  Were  they 
not  united  in  heart,  and  by  the  bonds  of  an  affection  so 
sacred  that  no  sin  could  have  passed  between  them  ? 

And  they  were  happy,  the  loving  and  the  beloved,  — • 
happy  in  the  treasures  of  a  pure,  fervent  first  affection, 
whose  holy  blessings  were  scattered  over  their  hearts  like 
pearls  over  seas  of  gold !  In  that  glad  hour,  life  seemed 
like  a  heaven,  in  which  no  storms  could  arise,  above  which 
no  clouds  could  arise,  and  beneath  which  no  hell  could 
exist :  yet  fatality  was  at  work  ! 

They  thought  not  of  the  dangers  yet  to  come,  nor  of 
those  that  were  passed.  Their  senses  seemed  absorbed  in 
a  heavenly  delight ;  they  were  under  the  influence  of  the 
blissful  spell  that  accompanies  the  first  waking  hours  of 
"  young  love's  dream."  What  to  them  was  hate,  envy, 
or  even  death,  as  they  thus  held  each  other  in  that  fond 
embrace  ? 

O,  love,  love !  Why  does  the  soul  of  the  stern  and 
cold  misanthrope  fly  back  to  the  joys  that  have  been,  —  to 
those  heavenly  delights  ?  The  gentle  touch  —  the  fond 
embrace  —  protracted  kiss  —  the  sweetly  sensuous  smile 
of  consummated  bliss — the  glowing  form  —  the  swelling 
bosom  —  the  love-lit  eyes,  now  timidly  cast  down,  then 
more  timidly  raised !  0,  what  a  picture  could  that  same 
misanthrope  paint  from  memory  !  But  how  such  pleasures 
fade  —  how  quickly  do  they  pass;  and  then,  in  after 


100  THE   CRIMES   OF 

years,  how  like  a  hollow  mockery  of  present  woe  does  the 
remembrance  of  them  come  up  to  mental  view,  and  make 
us  curse  the  changes  that  have  robbed  us  of  such  happi- 
ness ! 

0,  as  I  sit  here  in  the  loneliness  and  silence  of  this 
midnight  hour,  and  remember  how  the  fairest  flower  that 
ever  sprung  from  heaven  grew  up  beside  me  and  blessed 
me  with  its  riches,  then  was  gathered  by  the  icy  hand  of 
Death,  a  sense  of  sickening  desolation  sweeps  over  my 
every  thought  and  feeling,  and  I  realize  that  on  the  portals 
of  my  cold  and  reckless  heart  the  demon  hands  of  change 
and  disappointment  have  written,  "  Accursed  —  accursed 
forevermore ! "  *  * 


THE   ARREST. 


"  IT  is  getting  late,  dearest,"  observed  Zinna,  at  last. 
"  I  must  bid  you  adieu  for  the  present,  but  with  the  as- 
surance that  we  shall  soon  meet  again." 

"  And  may  the  day  hasten  when  we  are  to  wed,  for  I 
would  be  with  thee  always.  These  partings  are  the  bane 
of  our  happiness,  —  the  time  that  intervenes,  its  death  !  " 

And  then  they  parted,  as  lovers  always  part  —  with 
lingering  regrets,  fond  kisses,  and  assurances  of  fidelity. 
Zinna  was  finally  gone.  Floretta  threw  herself  into  a 
chair,  and  gave  herself  up  to  the  emotions  of  sadness  that 
swept  over  her  soul. 

"  0,  noble,  good  Hernaldo,"  she  murmured.  "  No 
blessing  earth  can  afford  can  be  compared  with  thy  love,  it- 
is  so  pure  and  holy  !  " 


ALEXANDER   BOKGIA.  101 

Then  she  knelt  and  prayed,  not  as  one  who  feels  despair, 
not  as  one  who  feels  the  need  of  heavenly  consolation,  but 
as  one  whose  gentle  spirit  feels  the  sweet  assurance  of  its 
own  innocence  and  purity,  and  the  consciousness  of  having 
a  treasure  laid  up  in  heaven.  When  such  an  one  can 
thus  pray,  prayer  is  sublimely  beautiful. 

A  few  moments  were  thus  passed ;  then  the  maiden 
arose,  with  a  look  of  radiant  happiness  on  her  features, 
and  slowly  moved  towards  her  room.  As  she  did  so,  a 
noise  was  heard  without  that  caused  her  to  pause  and 
listen. 

"  It  is  nothing  but  the  sound  of  footsteps,"  she  mur- 
mured ;  "  yet  why  should  it  have  such  a  strange  efiect 
upon  me,  even  as  if  they  conveyed  a  warning  of  some 
menacing  danger  ?  " 

Delano  came  out  of  the  adjoining  room  at  this  moment. 
His  face  was  paler  than  usual,  and  a  look  of  deep  anxiety 
rested  thereon. 

"Ah,  it's  you,  father,"  said  Floretta,  starting.  "I 
thought  you  were  asleep." 

"  I  have  been  abed,  but  found  it  impossible  to  compose 
myself  to  slumber.  Do  you  not  hear  the  sound  of  foot- 
steps ?  " 

"  It  was  that  that  startled  me.     Who  can  it  be  ?  " 

The  steps  had  been  gradually  approaching  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  as  Floretta  asked  the  question  there  was  a 
knock  upon  the  door.  The  listeners  both  started,  became 
a  shade  paler,  and  looked  inquiringly  at  each  other. 

"  Who  can  it  be  that  seeks  admittance  here  at  this  late 
hour?  "  said  Delano,  in  a  low  voice. 

The- knock  was  repeated. 

"  And  there  are  a  number  of  them,"  continued  the  old 
9* 


102  THE   CRIMES  Off 

man,  as  their  footsteps  plainly  intimate.  A  foreboding  of 
evil  takes  possession  of  me ;  I  fear  that  this  visit  bodes 
us  uo  good ;  I  have  hardly  courage  enough  to  open  the 
door ! " 

Again  the  knock  was  repeated. 

And  then  the  old  man  became  deathly  pale,  and  his 
limbs  trembled  beneath  him,  for  the  truth  flashed  upon  his 
mind  with  almost  stunning  power  and  quickness,  banishing 
every  joy  from  his  heart,  and  filling  it  with  the  most  chill- 
ing fear.  "  0,  my  daughter,"  he  gasped,  as  he  sank  into 
a  chair,  "  we  are  lost !  Our  visitors  are  officers  of  the 
Inquisition !  "  . 

"  Open  —  open,  Delano  !  "  said  a  gruff  voice  without. 

"  O,  God  !  why  are  we  thus  pursued  ?  "  cried  Ploretta, 
as  she  tottered  towards  the  door  with  the  intention  of 
opening  it,  then  recoiled,  and  sank  into  a  chair. 

"  Who  is  there?  "  asked  Delano,  rousing  himself  up. 

"  The  Holy  Inquisition !  "  was  the  reply,  and  the  door 
was  noiselessly  opened. 

Delano  and  Floretta  both  uttered  a  cry  of  horror. 

And  well  they  might ;  for  it  was  a  chilling  sight  to  see 
those  dark-featured,  scowling  men,  four  in  number,  includ- 
ing Father  Janzen,  habited  in  black  cloaks,  and  wearing 
cowls,  enter  the  room,  one  after  the  other,  as  noiselessly 
as  so  many  phantoms. 

"  Michael  Delano,"  said  Father  Janzen,  in  a  sepulchral 
voice,  "  you  are  summoned  before  the  Inquisition,  as  is 
your  daughter  Floretta.  We  have  come  to  conduct  you 
thither." 

"  I  ?  "  gasped  Delano.     "  Myself  and  daughter  ?  " 

There  was  no  reply,  nor  any  movement  in  the-  party, 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  103 

save  on  the  part  of  two  of  the  officers,  who  moved  silently 
forward,  and  assisted  Delano  to,  rise. 

"  What  is  our  crime  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  Of  what  do 
we  stand  accused  ?  " 

No  reply  was  given.  Father  Janzen  only  waved  his 
hand  towards  the  door,  and  the  two  officers  assisted  Del- 
ano towards  it. 

"  Speak,  if  you  are  men,  and  tell  me  the  cause  of  this 
arrest." 

Still  there  was  no  reply.  The  spectre-like  figures  did 
not  seem  to  be  conscious  of  a  word  that  had  been  spoken. 
Father  Janzen  and  the  third  official  now  approached  Flo- 
retta,  one  on  each  side,  and  took  hold  of  her  arms,  as  if  to 
lead  her  away. 

"  Hold  !  "  exclaimed  Delano,  who  had  now  neared  the 
door;  and  he  checked  his  progress  as  if  determined  to 
make  a  desperate  resistance.  "  I  will  not  obey  these  sum- 
mons until  I  have  seen  your  authority,  written  and  sealed !  " 

"  Here  it  is,"  cried  a  stern  voice  at  the  door,  as  some 
papers  wore  thrust  before  the  face  of  the  unhappy  man. 
"  Come  along,  Delano  ;  you  are  wanted  by  the  Inquisition, 
and  also  by  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's.  Come  —  come !  " 

And  father  and  daughter  both  started  back  with  a  cry 
of  terror,  for  it  was  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's  that  stood 
before  them  ! 


XI. 

HORRORS   OF   THE   INQUISITION. 

THE  infamous  scheme  of  Pope  Alexander  VI.  against 
La  Belle  Floretta  and  her  father  having  been  thus  far 


104  THE   CRIMES   OF 

executed,  his  minions  proceeded  to  the  final  stroke  of  their 
damning  work.  The  victims  were  before  them,  and  pow- 
erless ;  and  the  executors  of  Papal  infamy  had  the  author- 
ity and  power,  no  less  than  the  determination,  to  fulfil  their 
orders. 

Delano  and  his  daughter  were  dragged  from  their  cot- 
tage, despite  their  protestations  of  innocence.  They  were 
hurried  through  the  streets  to  the  Inquisition,  by  the 
officers  of  that  tribunal  of  blood  and  agony.  They  were 
not  allowed  to  call  for  help,  supplicate  pity,  or  lament 
their  fate.  The  repetition  of  a  question  on  the  part  of 
Delano  caused  one  of  the  Inquisitors  to  produce  a  gag,  as 
an  intimation  that  he  would  soon  be  silenced  in  a  manner 
far  from  agreeable,  if  he  did  not  hold  his  peace.  Those 
grim  and  silent  men  appeared  to  know  no  mercy.  Man- 
hood seemed  to  have  left  them  forever.  They  stalked 
sternly  forward,  in  darkness  and  silence,  like  demons  con- 
ducting damned  humanity  to  the  shades  of  hell. 

And  thus  they  passed  to  the  Inquisition.  The  walls 
that  contained  and  concealed  so  much  misery  were  at 
length  before  them.  They  passed  up  the  steps  to  the 
massive  door.  It  was  opened  by  unseen  hands  at  a  signal 
from  Father  Janzen,  and  the  party  passed  in.  The  door 
swung  back  to  its  place  with  a  dull  and  heavy  sound,  and 
it  seemed  to  the  wretched  captives  as  if  they  had  bidden 
adieu  to  the  world  forever.  Dim  lights  were  hanging  here 
and  there,  but  they  were  not  sufficient  to  banish  the  dark- 
ness, though  strong  enough  to  show  how  ghastly  was  the  color 
and  expression  of  the  faces  of  the  victims,  and  how  cold 
and  pitiless  was  the  expression  that  rested  upon  the  coun- 
tenance of  each  of  the  officers.  They  passed  along  the 
hall,  their  footsteps  echoing  through  the  lofty  vaults  with 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  105 

a  hollow  sound.  Down  broad  stone  steps,  through  damp 
passage-ways,  along  damp  corridors,  were  the  victims  con- 
ducted, until  they  were  far  beneath  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  —  down  where  the  glorious  light  of  heaven  had 
never  cast  a  single  ray!  A  massive  iron  door  was  then 
before  them ;  upon  it  was  inscribed,  in  letters  of  blood, 
"  Confess,  or  die  !  "  Above  it  was  inscribed,  in  the  same 
ominous  colors,  "  The  gate  to  Death  !  "  and  on  the  thresh- 
old stone  was  engraven,  "  Death  for  heretics,  but  salva- 
tion for  those  who  repent  and  confess ! "  The  captives 
shuddered  as  they  beheld  these  inscriptions,  and  started 
back,  but  strong  hands  urged  them  forward.  Father  Jan- 
zen  turned  the  key  in  the  door ;  it  flew  open  with  a  sullen 
clank,  that  reverberated  far  and  near  in  those  vaults  of 
misery  and  death.  Delano  was  forced  through,  followed 
by  his  daughter.  He  gazed  around  quickly  and  fearfully, 
then  a  wild  cry  of  despair  welled  up  to  his  lips,  though  he 
was  no  coward.  He  could  have  braved  sudden  death  in 
any  form,  —  could  have  met  the  fell  destroyer  on  the 
ocean,  on  a  field  of  battle,  where  shot  were  glancing,  and 
swords  gleaming  in  the  air ;  could  have  met  death  in  all 
these  forms  without  betraying  a  fear ;  but  the  sight  that 
was  now  before  him  was  more  terrible ;  it  froze  his  very 
soul  with  horror ;  it  seemed  to  clog  up  the  channels  of  his 
blood,  blind  his  eyes,  sear  his  brain,  and  freeze  his  every 
thought  and  feeling.  And  this  terrible  sight,  this  living 
evil,  this  waking  incubus,  was  revealed  in  the  ocular  as- 
surance that  he  stood  in 

THE  HALL  OF  TORTURE  ! 

It  was  far  down  in  the  shadows  of  earth,  where  gnomes 
alone  should  have  dwelt,  vampires  feasted  and  fattened, 
and  ghouls  held  their  horrid  revels!  Down  amidst  chains 


106  THE   CRIMES   OF 

and  dungeons,  groans  and  shrieks,  despairing  prayers  and 
frenzied  curses  !  Down  amidst  the  grave-like  dampness, 
the  death-like  coldness,  and  vaporish  air,  where  tortured 
men  were  cursing,  women  dying,  and  glassy  eyes  were  glar- 
ing on  the  massive  walls ! 

Delano  gazed  fearfully  around,  upon  being  introduced 
into  this  frightful  place.  His  face  was  deathly  paie  ;  his 
limbs  tottered  beneath  him.  His  daughter  was  no  less 
pale  and  agitated ;  but  she  endeavored  to  appear  calm. 

The  mask  of  St.  Peter's  touched  her  arm.  She  started 
as  if  a  poisonous  viper  had  bitten  her. 

"  Coine,"  said  he,  with  a  cold  and  mocking  smile,  "  let 
me  call  your  attention  to  the  various  modes  of  torture,  and 
to  the  instruments  employed  !  " 

Floretta  appeared  to  be  fainting ;  but  the  mask  passed 
his  arm  around  her  waist  and  sustained  her,  and  assisted 
her  to  move  towards  the  other  side  of  the  hall. 

"  The  Pope  loves  you,"  he  whispered.  "  Will  you  con- 
sent to  be  his  mistress  ? ' ' 

"  Never,  never !  "  gasped  Floretta,  firmly ;  but  she 
leaned  more  heavily  upon  her  companion's  arm  as  she 
spoke.  He  suddenly  checked  her  progress. 

"  Here  we  are,"  he  observed,  "  before  one  of  our  instru- 
ments of  torture,  the  rack.  It  was  formerly  much  used, 
but  we  are  now  becoming  more  refined  in  our  proceedings, 
and  know  how  to  inflict  greater  anguish  without  as  much 
seeming  brutality.  You  probably  know  how  it  is  used. 
The  victim  is  bound  between  those  pulleys,  —  a  rope  is 
fastened  to  each  of  his  limbs,  and  each  rope  is  drawn 
tighter  and  tighter,  until  he  confesses,  faints,  or  is  drawn 
asunder ! " 

"  0,  horror !  "  murmured  Floretta. 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  107 

"  But  the  Pope  loves  you,  and  would  spare  you  these 
cruelties,  if  you  would  consent  to  his  wishes ! "  said  the 
mask,  as  they  moved  on  a  few  steps.  Then  they  paused 
again.  A  wooden  horse  or  bench  was  before  them. 

"  This,"  continued  the  mask,  "  is  called  the  torture  of  « 
tightened  ropes  and  suffocation  by  water,  and  is  generally 
used  for  the  benefit  of  females.  The  victim  is  placed  in 
this  groove,  which  is  made  in  the  proper  shape  to  receive 
her  form,  and  then  she  is  bound  firmly  in  that  position, 
from  head  to  foot,  by  ropes  that  are  drawn  over  pulleys, 
and  tightened  to  such  an  extent  that  she  cannot  even 
writhe.  Then  a  tunnel  above  her  head  is  filled  with  water, 
which  drips  slowly  on  a  cloth  that  is  drawn  through  the 
funnel,  and  falls  into  the  victim's  mouth,  which  is  kept 
forced  open ;  and  thus  it  keeps  dropping  and  dropping, 
sometimes  many  hours  in  succession,  until  she  is  nearly  or 
quite  drowned  ! " 

"  0,  agony  !  "  groaned  the  maiden. 

"  But  the  Pope  loves  you,"  said  the  mask,  with  a  hell- 
ish leer,  "  and  would  fain  spare  you  these  recitals  !  " 

They  had  now  moved  forward  until  they  stood  before  a 
set  of  stocks. 

"  Here  is  where  we  execute  what  is  called  the  torture 
of  the  stocks.  The  feet  of  one  who  is  condemned  to  this 
punishment  are  placed  in  these  stocks,  and  covered  with 
grease  and  combustible  liquids;  after  which  a  fire  is 
kindled  under  them,  which,  being  fed  by  such  materials, 
burns  and  sears  the  flesh  and  muscles,  and  causes  the  most 
agonizing  torments!  " 

"  Just  Heaven,"  cried  Floretta,  "  I  shall  go  mad  at 
these  revelations ! " 

"  Remember  that  the  Pope  bears  you  great  affection, 


108  TUB   CRIMES   OF 

and  would  not  have  you  suffer  such  agonies  as  these  in- 
struments cause." 

They  now  stood  in  front  of  some  ropes  and  pulleys  that 
were  suspended  from  a  huge  staple  fastened  in  the  solid 
masonry  of  the  arch  above  them. 

"  Here  is  executed,"  proceeded  the  mask,  "what  is  called 
the  torture  of  ropes  and,  weights.  The  victim  is  stripped, 
then  ropes  are  fastened  to  her  wrists,  by  which  she  is 
drawn  up  to  the  ceiling,  and  left  suspended  for  some  time. 
Then  she  is  lowered,  and  heavy  weights  fastened  to  her 
feet,  when  she  is  again  drawn  up.  After  remaining  thus  an 
hour,  if  she  still  refuses  to  repent  and  confess,  she  is 
quickly  lowered  several  feet,  and  suddenly  checked  in  her 
descent,  by  which  means  her  wrists,  elbows,  shoulders, 
thighs,  knees  and  ankles,  are  often  dislocated  in  an  instant, 
causing  the  most  excruciating  pain  !  " 

"  0,  God  of  mercy,"  gasped  Floretta,  "  am  I  indeed 
deserted  ?  " 

"  Whether  you  are  or  not,  you  are  beloved  by  the  Pope, 
who  would  be  very  much  pained  to  see  you  endure  these 
tortures  !  "  and  the  eyes  of  the  mask  grew  more  devilish 
and  malignant  in  their  expression  of  anticipated  revenge 
and  triumph. 

He  had  now  conducted  his  almost  fainting  companion  to 
the  most  distant  corner  of  the  hall,  where  the  tapers  were 
faint  and  flickering,  and  the  darkness  scarcely  half  dissi- 
pated. Floretta  started  at  an  object  that  met  her  view. 

"  What !  "  she  shrieked,  "  a  woman  !  Do  I  indeed 
behold  one  of  my  own  sex  here  ?  " 

"  Only  a  semblance  of  one,"  replied  the  mask.  "  You 
are  now  gazing  on  '  the  Skeleton  Venus,''  As  you  per- 
ceive, it  looks  like  a  beautiful  woman,  with  a  fascinating 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  109 

countenance,  voluptuous  form,  and  elegant  apparel ;  but  it 
is  but  a  mockery,  —  a  hollow  semblance.  The  instant  a 
victim  is  pressed  into  her  arms,  secret  springs  are  touched, 
—  the  painted  semblance  of  a  Venus  is  hurled  aside,  and 
he  is  clasped  in  the  arras  of  a  ghastly  skeleton  !  He  may 
shriek  in  terror ;  but  his  cries  and  frantic  struggles  can 
avail  him  nothing.  Those  bony  arms  will  press  closer  and 
closer  around  him,  —  closer  and  closer,  —  until  the  life  is 
completely  crushed  out  of  his  body,  and  he  is  finally  re- 
leased, but  to  fall  a  corpse  at  the  feet  of  the  Skeleton 
Venus ! " 

"  Horror  !  horror  !  " 

-  "  But  the  Pope  loves  you,  and  hopes  you  will  not  ever  lay 
yourself  liable  to  such  a  doom  !  "  remarked  the  mask  of 
St.  Peter's,  in  sneering  tones,  and  with  a  mocking  smile. 

Both  had  now  reached  a  figure  that  was  similar  iu 
appearance  to  the  one  they  had  last  gazed  upon. 

"  Here,"  said  the  mask,  "  is  the  'Virgin  which  the  con- 
demned criminals  of  the  Inquisition  are  sometimes  forced 
to  embrace.  You  see  that  it  looks  like  a  woman,  with 
arms  extended  as  if  for  an  embrace ;  but  to  venture  within 
reach  of  those  arms  is  sure  death.  Once  within  the 
radius  of  th%  circle  they  cover,  and  the  victim  is  firmly 
clasped,  while  an  almost  countless  myriad  of  knives  are 
revealed,  which  immediately  cut  him  to  pieces  !  " 

"  I  shall  go  mad  if  I  observe  more  !  "  came  from  the 
pale  lips  of  Floretta. 

"  There  is  no  occasion  for  alarm,  if  you  take  proper  cog- 
nizance of  the  fact  that  the  Pope  loves  you  !  "  was  the 
reply.  "  But,  behold,  —  you  have  not  yet  seen  all.  Ob- 
serve the  well  *=  before  you  !  " 

*  "  The  well  or  pit  beneath  had  been  built  in  the  ordinary  cylin- 
10 


110  THE   CRIMES   OF 

Floretta  started  back,  for  a  black  pit  was  before  her. 
It  was  about  five  feet  in  diameter,  and  built  in  the  usual 
form  of  a  well.  Prompted  by  a  horrible  curiosity,  the 
maiden  moved  forward  until  she  stood  close  beside  it,  still 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  mask,  when  she  peered  down 
into  its  black  and  silent  depths.  It  appeared  to  descend 
full  a  hundred  feet.  Far,  far  below,  there  was  a  number 
of  arches,  on  which  the  foundations  of  this  singular  well 
appeared  to  be  laid ;  and  through  these  arches  a  few 
faint  rays  of  light  stole  in.  The  maiden  recoiled  from  the 
fearful  sight,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  Look  again,"  whispered  the  mask ;  "  you  have  not  yet 
seen  all  the  horrors  of  this  well.  Do  you  not  see  that 
sharp  knives,  gleaming  swords,  and  huge  sabres,  are 
fastened,  here  and  there,  in  the  masonry,  upon  which  any 
person  who  is  condemned  to  be  hurled  into  this  well  must 
fall,  and  be  thus  cut  in  pieces  ?  Many  and  many  a  victim 
of  the  Inquisition  has  been  plunged  into  this  pit,  and, 
before  reaching  the  bottom,  been  mangled  so  horribly  that 
not  a  single  feature,  or  even  the  outlines  of  his  form,  could 
have  been  recognized  by  his  most  intimate  friend  !  " 

A  wild  wail  of  agony  escaped  the  lips  of  Floretta,  and 
she  sunk  down  at  the  feet  of  the  mask.  Her  s?nses  seemed 
to  be  leaving  her. 

"  Show  me  no  more,"  she  gasped,  faintly,  "  or  I  shall 
die!" 

An  infernal  gleam  of  triumph  appeared  in  the  eyes  of 
the  mask,  as  he  raised  her  to  her  feet. 

drical  form,  and  was  at  least  eighty  feet  deep,  and  so  ingeniously 
provided  with  projecting  knives  and  cutlasses,  that  the  bodies  of 
the  victims  must  have  been  dreadfully  mangled  in  the  descent." — 
Dowling'>i  History  of  Romanism,  p.  693. 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  Ill 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  satisfied,"  he  muttered.  "  Now, 
Floretta,  listen  to  me.  I  have  shown  you  these  sights, 
that  you  might  feel  well  assured  of  the  punishment  that 
will  be  yours  if  you  persist  in  your  non-compliance  with 
the  wishes  of  the  Pope.  He  has  doomed  you  to  the  tor- 
ture unless  you  promise  me,  at  once,  to  be  his  mistress, 
now  and  forever  !  What  is  your  answer  ?  " 

But  the  question  was  not  heeded.  Floretta  had  again 
sunk  down  at  his  feet,  and  was  insensible.  Strong  as  was 
her  nature,  the  accumulation  of  horrors*  she  had  wit- 
nessed had  overpowered  her.  The  mask  gazed  triumph- 
antly upon  her  pale  and  haggard  features, —  they  seemed 
like  the  features  of  the  dead  ! 

"  Father  Janzen,"  said  the  mask,  after  a  momentary 
pause,  "  you  may  retire,  with  your  men,  all  save  two." 

The  order  was  obeyed,  —  only  two  of  the  Inquisitors 
remained. 

"  Bring  Delano  here,"  was  the  next  order  of  the  mask. 

The  trembling  wretch  was  brought  forward,  and,  as  the 
officers  released  their  hold  of  him,  he  sunk  down  almost 
insensible  beside  the  well. 

Floretta  now  began  to  give  tokens  of  recovery.  A 
groan  of  anguish  escaped  her,  a  shudder  swept  over  her 
form  ;  and  then  she  opened  her  eyes. 

"  Remember,  Floretta,  what  I  have  told  you,"  said  the 
mask,  in  a  tone  that  expressed  the  most  terrible  vindic- 
tiveness  and  determination.  "  The  Pope  loves  you,  —  he 

*  The  different  modes  of  torture  alluded  to  in  this  chapter  are, 
with  many  more,  described  at  length  in  Bowling's  celebrated 
"History  of  Romanism,"  to  which  I  would  especially  refer  the 
reader,  as  authority  for  the  truthfulness  and  FIDELITY  TO  REALITY 
with  which  I  have  drawn  the  horrors  of  "  The  Hall  of  Torture  ! " 


112  THB   CRIMES   O9 

will  make  you  rich  and  happy,  if  you  will  consent  io 
his  wishes.  Consider  his  proposal  well,  and  spurn  it  not, 
for  the  tortures  of  the  Inquisition  are  before  you  !  " 

"  I  cannot  consent,  —  I  am  bound  to  another.  I  will 
not  be  his  mistress,  —  never,  never  !  "  was  all  Floretta  had 
strength  to  utter. 

"  Then,  take  the  reward  of  your  obstinacy  !  "  exclaimed 
the  mask.  "  Men,  seize  this  woman ;  put  her  to  the  tor- 
ture !  The  torture  of  the  ropes  and  weights  !  " 


XII. 

PUT   TO   THE   TOETCBE. 

THE  fearful  order  was  obeyed.  Like  fiends  incarnate, 
those  grim  and  silent  men  commenced  their  hellish  work. 
Vain  were  the  struggles  of  Delano ;  unheeded  were  his 
cries  for  mercy.  The  strong  arm  of  the  mask  thrust  him 
aside,  and  Floretta  was  seized  by  the  officers.  She 
struggled, — but  what  could  she  do?  She  implored  mercy, 

—  but  of  whom  ?     Not  men,  but  of  devils  !     She  shrieked 
for  help,  —  but  who  could  hear  her  ?    All  availed  nothing. 
The  officers  overpowered  her ;  she  W*B  helpless  in  their 
grasp.    They  tore  the  garments  from  her  trembling  body,* 

—  her  snow-white  neck,  whiter  bosom  and  beauteous  form, 
were  all  exposed  to  the  polluting  gaze  of  the  unfeeling 
minions   of  the   Inquisition.      "What   to   them   was  her 

*  Sec  DOTVLIXG'S  "  History  of  Romanism,"  page  671,  or  the 
"Inquisition  Unmasked,"  translated  from  the  Spanish  of  D.  An- 
tonio Puigblanch,  London  edition,  published  in  1816.  It  was  a 
general  practice  of  the  Inquisitors  to  disrobe  their  victims  before 
putting  them  to  the  torture,  revolting  as  it  may  seem. 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  113 

anguish,  her  outraged  modesty,  her  delicacy  of  mind  and 
body  ?  They  heeded  it  not.  Their  only  office  was  to  exe- 
cute their  orders.  The  maiden  was  soon  stripped  entirely 
naked ;  and  her  shrieks  now  became  so  piercing  that  the 
Inquisitors  deemed  it  expedient  to  gag  her.  The  rope 
that  descended  from  the  pulley  was  then  fastened  tightly  to 
her  wrists.  Two  iron  weights,  each  weighing  a  hundred 
pounds,  were  tied  to  her  ankles.  The  mask  then  waved 
his  hand,  and  the  men  drew  her  up  to  the  arched  ceiling. 
She  was  suspended  by  the  wrists,  thus  sustaining  her  own 
weight,  and  that  of  those  masses  of  iron  !  The  muscles  of 
her  arms  and  limbs  seemed  drawn  to  their  utmost  tension  ; 
her  joints  cracked  as  if  parting  asunder  ;  her  flesh  quivered 
as  if  she  were  in  convulsions ;  and  yet  those  hardened  men 
gazed  coolly  on. 

"  Will  you  consent  to  the  Pope's  wishes  ?  "  asked  the 
mask,  who  had  quietly  seated  himself  in  a  chair,  as  if  in- 
differently awaiting  an  indifferent  event. 

Floretta  shook  her  head.  A  gleam  of  infernal  ferocity 
appeared  in  the  eyes  of  the  mask,  as  he  realized  that  she 
was  still  obstinate.  He  sprang  to  his  feet,  uttering  a 
curse,  and  made  a  significant  motion  to  his  two  instru- 
ments, the  officers.  It  was  understood.  They  drew  their 
victim  up  as  near  to  the  wall  as  possible,  then  let  her  drop 
suddenly  to  within  a  few  inches  of  the  floor,  checking  her 
descent  by  means  of  a  stout  staple  around  which  the  rope 
was  coiled.  The  shock  was  such  that  the  shoulders  and 
thighs  and  wrists  of  the  sufferer  were  dislocated !  Her 
agony  was  so  great,  and  her  struggles  so  fearful,  that  .she 
removed  the  gag  from  her  mouth.  She  essayed  to  speak, 
but  could  only  utter  a  low  moan  of  suffering.  A  look  of 
more  than  mortal  anguish  flitted  over  her  deathly-pale 
10* 


114  THE   CRIMES   OP 

features  ;  then  her  brain  reeled,  her  head  sunk  forward  on 
her  breast :  she  had  fainted  ! 

Again  the  mask  moved  his  hand.  The  Inquisitors  in- 
stantly lowered  their  victim,  and  untied  the  ropes  —  then 
bore  her  to  a  bed  of  straw  in  the  corner  of  the  hall,  and 
applied  themselves  to  her  restoration. 

"  Will  she  bear  the  torture  again?  "  asked  the  mask,  as 
he  glanced  towards  them,  and  struck  down  Delano,  who 
had  darted  towards  his  daughter. 

"  She  might,  but  I  would  not  advise  it  at  present.  Her 
limbs  are  much  dislocated  !  " 

"  0,  let  me  go  to  her  !  "  cried  Delano.  "  She  will  die 
without  my  attendance  !  " 

"Peace,  fool!  We  do  not  let  our  patients  die  — we 
save  their  lives,  that  we  may  mould  their  minds  to  our 
•will !  Your  daughter  will  yet  repent  of  her  refusal ;  in- 
deed, she  will !  " 

Then  he  turned  towards  the  officers,  and  inquired, 

"  Gives  she  any  token  of  recovery  yet  ?  "  t 

"  Ay,  her  usual  consciousness  will  soon  return,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  You  hear,"  said  the  mask  to  Delano,  —  "  there  is  no 
danger  of  her  dying  !  " 

The  maiden  opened  her  eyes,  and  stared  wildly  around. 
For  a  moment  she  seemed  incapable  of  realizing  where  she 
was,  or  what  she  had  undergone ;  then  a  flush  appeared 
upon  her  pale  cheeks,  and  she  drew  a  cloak  which  one  of 
the  Inquisitors  had  thrown  off  over  her  form,  in  every  por- 
tion of  which  the  sharpest  pains  were  now  rankling. 

"  Raise  me  up,"  she  whispered ;  "  let  me  behold  my 
father." 

The  men  complied  with  her  request.     She  gazed  tear- 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  115 

fully  upon  him.  The  eyes  of  the  doting  old  man  could  not 
gaze  upon  the  fearful  picture  his  daughter  presented ;  he 
turned  his  face  away  and  groaned  aloud,  while  scalding 
tears  coursed  down  his  wrinkled  cheeks. 

"  Do  not  weep  for  your  child,  dear  father ;  you  have 
nothing  to  reproach  yourself  for,"  murmured  Floretta, 
"  nor  have  I.  Firm  in  the  consciousness  of  duty,  I  can 
endure  all  the  tortures  these  men  can  wreak  upon  my  frail 
body,  while  the  spirit  defies  them  still ! " 

"  Not  yet  conquered,"  muttered  the  mask,  in  a  voice 
fairly  husky  with  rage ;  "  then  I  will  make  Delano  an 
example ! " 

He  seized  him  by  the  arm  as  he  spoke,  and  dragged  him 
close  to  the  side  of  the  Well,  or  —  as  it  was  called  —  the 
pit  of  death,  when  he  turned  towards  Floretta,  who  had 
started  up  at  this  ominous  movement  with  a  cry  of  horror. 

"  Now,  proud  Floretta,  hear  my  last  proposal,"  said  the 
mask,  in  the  low,  calm  tone  of  determination  that  betrays 
a  deadly  purpose.  "  You  see  this  weak  old  man  —  he  is 
your  father.  As  such,  he  should  be  worthy  of  any  sacri- 
fice from  you.  You  may  make  the  required  sacrifice 
or  not,  consulting  your  own  views  on  the  subject ;  but  I 
swear  by  everything  holy  and  sacred,  that  if  you  do  not 
instantly  give  your  consent  to  the  proposal  I  have  made, 
you  will  see  your  father  hurled  down  upon  the  deadly 
blades  within  this  well !  " 

"Hold  —  hold!  Do  not  doom  him  to  such  a  terrible 
death  —  he  is  my  father  !  " 

"  Your  promise,  then  —  your  promise  !  "  cried  the  mask, 
fiercely.  "  Give  it  to  me  at  once,  or  I  swear " 

"  What  do  you  swear  ?  "  exclaimed  a  stern  voice,  as  a 


116  THE   CRIMES  OF 

door  swung  back  on  its  creaking  hinges,  and  Cardinal 
Corneto  appeared  upon  the  threshold. 

The  mask  started,  and  pressed  his  hand  to  his  brow,  as 
if  appalled  by  the  appearance  of  his  visitor.  It  flashed 
like  lightning  upon  his  brain  that  the  cardinal  would  recog- 
nize Delano,  whom  he  and  the  other  cardinals  in  council 
had  condemned  to  death,  and  that  his  non-compliance 
with  their  orders  would  be  thus  discovered  ;  but  the  danger 
was  not  great  enough  to  appal  ^and  unman  him ;  only 
sufficient  to  call  forth  his  greatest  powers  of  decision  and 
action.  As  quick  as  thought,  he  seized  Delano  in  his  vice- 
like  grasp,  and  dragged  him  towards  the  pit,  from  which 
he  had  retired  a  few  steps  at  the  interruption. 

"  Mercy  —  mercy  !  "  he  gasped. 

"  Stop,  villain  !  "  shouted  the  cardinal,  with  great  ex- 
citement ;  "  't  is  Cardinal  Corneto  commands  you !  " 

Nearer  and  nearer  drew  the  mask  to  the  fatal  pit,  and 
more  evident  became  his  determination. 

"  Hold  !  "  cried  La  Belle  Floretta,  making  a  superhu- 
man effort  to  seize  upon  the  mask.  "  Save  —  save  him ! 
Spare  my  father,  and  I  will  become  the  mistress  of  the 
Pope !  " 

The  mask  did  not  seem  to  heed  the  words.  He  saw 
only  the  danger  of  discovery,  and  that  Corneto  was  near. 
He  neared  the  pit,  his  victim  still  pleading  for  mercy ;  the 
cardinal  ordering  him  to  desist ;  and  Floretta  repeating 
her  .  promise,  her  consent.  All  were  alike  unheeded. 
Closer  to  the  pit  —  closer,  closer !  so  that  he  could  look 
down  into  its  black  and  yawning  depths,  in  which,  here 
and  there,  sharp  blades  were  glistening  in  the  rays  from 
lamps  below ;  and  then,  with  one  single  effort,  while  a 


ALEXANDER    BORGIA.  117 

terrible  cry  of  horror  rang  through  the  hall,  he  hurled 
the  shrieking  Delano  into  the  frightful  abyss ! 

"  Monster  !  "  cried  Corneto,  vehemently,  as  he  drew  his 
sword,  "  you  shall  die  for  this.  That  man  was  Delano, 
whom  I  came  to  seek  !  " 

"  Seek  him  in  hell,  then  !  "  replied  the  mask,  now  terri- 
bly excited,  and  he  stamped  his  foot  angrily  upon  the 
floor,  while  his  form  quivered  with  passion.  "  Know  you, 
Cardinal  Corneto,  that  my  word  is  law  here,  and  any  in- 
terference will  cost  you  your  life  !  Men  !  bear  that  woman 
to  a  dungeon,  and  give  her  the  attendance  of  a  surgeon  !  " 

"  Stir  not,  on  your  lives ;  he  has  110  authority  to  com- 
mand you  !  "  exclaimed  Corneto. 

"  Liar  !  "  hissed  the  mask,  as  he  struck  him  to  the  floor, 
and  exhibited  a  massive  seal-ring  upon  his  finger ;  "  I 
have  authority!  Behold  the  signet-ring  of  Alexander 
Borgia !  " 

'  The  cardinal  bowed  his  head  in  token  of  submission ; 
the  men  proceeded  to  remove  the  insensible  Floretta  ;  the 
mask  uttered  a  scornful  laugh  of  triumph ;  and  here  ends 
the  horrors  of  half  an  hour  in  the  "  Hall  of  Torture !  " 


BOOK    FOURTH. 


DARK    PLOTTINGS. 

IT  was  two  weeks  later.  Among  the  events  of  this  pe- 
riod, Caesar  Borgia  had  become  a  cardinal.  He  was 
seated  alone  in  his  room,  engaged  in  earnest  thoughts. 

"  Some  means  must  be  employed,  and  speedily,  to  re- 
plenish the  treasury  of  the  church  and  the  pockets  of  the 
Borgias,"  he  observed,  in  a  musing  manner.  "  My  troops 
are  clamorous  for  money,  and  many  of  the  late  expenses 
they  have  incurred  remain  unliquidated.  From  whence  is 
this  money  to  come  ?  This  is  the  question  to  be  seriously 
asked  and  quickly  answered  ;  from  whence  is  the  required 
amount  to  come  ?  " 

He  rested  his  elbows  upon  his  knees,  and  his  chin  upon 
his  hands,  and  gave  himself  up  to  reflection.  He  was  soon 
disturbed,  however;  for  a  door  of  the  apartment  was 
opened,  and  Alexander  Borgia  entered. 

"  Ah,"  said  Caesar,  as  he  beheld  his  father,  "  I  am 
devilish  glad  to  see  you." 

The  Pope  did  not  reply.  He  was  evidently  in  no  pleas- 
ant  mood.  A  sullen,  half-angry  look  was  upon  his 
features.  He  threw  himself  dejectedly  into  a  chair,  and 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  119 

gave  himself  up  to  the  stormy  emotions  that  raged  in  his 
heart. 

"  Bah."  exclaimed  Caesar,  contemptuously,  as  he  ob- 
served these  signs  of  the  old  man's  moodiness.  "  You  are 
in  one  of  your  ill  humors  again.  Don't  make  such  a  fool 
of  yourself!  Be  a  little  more  the  Pope,  and  a  little  less 
the  man  !  Drive  your  cares  and  troubles  to  the  devil,  as 
I  do.  ^Jere  is  some  excellent  wine,  which  will  expedite 
the  departure  of  all  such  gloomy  feelings  most  wonderfully. 
Won't  you  try  a  glass  with  me  ?  Do,  and  banish  this 
cursed  ill-nature,  if  you  have  any  pity  for  me,  or  regard 
for  yourself.  But  I  suppose  you  are  still  meditating  on 
that  affair  with  Lucretia." 

"  Caesar,"  said  the  Pope,  sternly,  starting  to  his  feet, 
and  giving  his  companion  a  most  commanding  look, 
"  don't  you  ever  allude  to  that  circumstance  again.  Let 
the  past  be  forgotten,  all  save  that  portion  of  it  which  can 
be  remembered  with  pleasurable  emotions.  It  is  worse 
than  the  mouthings  of  a  fool,  or  the  ravings  of  a  madman, 
to  call  up  such  reminiscences.  Speak  of  the  present,  it'  at 
all  ;  you  will  find  that  subject  quite  disagreeable  enough." 

"  Ay,  too  much  so,"  said  Caosar,  with  a  moody  look. 
"  The  present  is  not  a  very  agreeable  subject  to  either  of 
us.  The  treasury  is  empty  —  the  church  is  impoverished ; 
and  both  of  us  have  urgent  need  for  money*  Under  these 
circumstances,  it  becomes  an  urgent,  a  serious  question  for 
us  to  decide,  where  the  money  is  to  come  from.  Have 
you  any  plans  or  prospects  on  the  subject?  " 

"  None,"  was  the  brief  and  gloomily-uttered  reply. 

"Then  allow  me  to  advance  mine.  I  have  plans  on 
that  subject  —  plans  that  have  just  been  decided  upon  in 
my  mind.  Listen,  and  you  shall  know  what  they  are. 


120  THE   CRIMES   OF 

You  are  aware  that  Cardinal  Corneto  is  a  very  rich  man, 
and  you  are  quite  as  well  aware  that  the  whole  of  his 
property,  in  the  event  of  his  decease,  comes  to  the  treasury 
of  the  Catholic  church.  Such  being  the  case,  I  propose 
that  Cardinal  Corneto  obliges  us  by  departing  from  mun- 
dane affairs  at  a  very  short  notice." 

"  What,  would  you  have  him  assassinated  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  say  that ;  I  simply  insinuated  that  I  should 
be  happy  to  hear  that  he  was  happy  and  doing  well  in  a 
better  world  than  ours  happens  to  be.  If  this  man,  this 
wealthy  cardinal,  were  to  die  suddenly  about  this  time,  he 
would  do  us  both  a  great  favor,  as  a  portion  of  his  money 
would  come  into  our  possession." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  Pope,  with  emphasis.  "  How 
do  you  propose  to  assassinate  him  ?  " 

"  Assassinate  ?  That  is  a  hard  word.  Did  I  say  as- 
sassinate ?  I  merely  intended  to  suggest  that  it  is  possible 
for  him  to  drink  a  glass  of  poisoned  wine." 

"  I  understand  ;  you  would  have  him  die  by  poison.  It 
is  a  good  .idea ;  we  will  act  upon  it.  Come  to  my  private 
apartment,  and  we  will  have  some  further  consideration 
on  this  subject.  Poison!  It  will  be  our  salvation — it 
shall  be  used ;  and  Cardinal  Corneto  shall  make  us  his 
heirs,  nnilens  volens  —  heirs  by  circumstances !  Come 
on  —  the  thought  is  right ;  it  has  only  to  be  matured !  " 

Each  hastily  drank  a  glass  of  wine,  and  then  both  re- 
tired from  the  room. 


ALEXANDER   BOUGIA. 


121 


THE   APPROACHING   MARRIAGE. 

LUCRETIA  BORGIA  was  seated  alone  in  her  room. 
Change  —  terrible  change  —  was  written  in  every  glance 
of  her  eyes,  and  in  every  expression  that  mantled  her 
face.  She  appeared  but  a  shadow  of  the  beautiful  and 
gay-hearted  being  she  had  been  but  a  few  short  months 
previous.  Her  face  was  very  pale  and  haggard  ;  her  eyea 
gleamed  restlessly  in  their  sockets ;  and  her  whole  appear- 
ance proclaimed  the  misery  that  was  rankling  in  her 
heart,  and  wasting  her  life  away.  Yet,  despite  all  this 
change,  despite  all  she  had  suffered,  Lucretia  Borgia  was 
strangely  fascinating  —  gloriously  beaatiful! 

"  It  is  hard  to  live  thus,"  she  murmured,  as  she  clasped 
her  hands  to  her  feverish  brow ;  "  to  live  under  the  con- 
viction that  I  am  cursed  for  this  life,  and  damned  for  that 
to  come.  No  mortal  knows  the  agony  that  is  given  me  by 
this  thought ;  none  can  comprehend  the  terrible  nature  of 
my  sufferings.  It  is  a  terrible  thing  —  a  thousand  times 
more  terrible  than  death  —  for  one  to  live  until  all  his  hopes 
have  been  destroyed,  brain  seared,  heart  blighted,  name 
disgraced,  and  life's  pleasures  all  wasted  away,  and  naught 
is  left  but  the  sickening  consciousness,  the  dread  realiza- 
tion, that  grief  and  despair  are  his  heritage  for  all  com- 
ing time !  A  terrible  thing  to  feel  that  everything  that 
made  life  desirable  has  been  buried  in  the  events  of  the 
past,  and  nothing  left  to  cheer  the  present  save  the  mock- 
ing memories  of  long,  long  ago!  A  terrible  thing  to 
stand  upon  the  shores  of  time,  and  gaze  forth  upon  the 
dreary  sea  that  stretches  far  away  into  eternity,  and  real- 
ize that  demon  hands  are  driving  one's  frail  bark  of  life 
11 


122  THE  CRIMES  <W 

over  its  billows,  hurrying  it  on  and  on,  in  darkness  and 
gloom !  A  terrible  thing  <o  feel  that  the  heart  has  become 
a  sepulchre  ;  a  yawning  grave  of  bright  hopes,  noble  aspir- 
ations, lofty  resolves,  and  waking  dreams  of  glory  and 
renown ;  a  living  tomb,  in  which  is  buried  everything  that 
is  good,  and  in  which  everything  that  is  bad,  polluting  and 
unholy,  shall  live  and  live  forever. 

"  But  I  will  be  avenged,"  continued  the  woman,  after 
pausing  a  brief  instant ;  and  her  face  wore  a  look  of  deter- 
mination that  could  not  have  been  mistaken.  "  Those  who 
have  embittered  my  happiness,  and  made  me  the  miserable 
object  I  am,  shall  feel  the  deadliest  revenge  that  woman's 
brain  can  plan  or  her  hand  execute !  " 

A  door  opened  as  Donna  Lucretia  ceased  speaking,  and 
a  portly,  commanding-looking  gentleman,  whose  age  could 
not  have  varied  much  from  forty-five,  entered  hastily, 
threw  himself  at  the  woman's  feet,  took  her  hand,  and  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Still  sad  and  desponding,  dear  Lucretia  !  I  feared  as 
much,  and  have  come  to  cheer  up  your  spirits  and  make 
you  happy." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Count  Lunaza,"  responded  Lucre- 
tia, with  a  faint  smile.  "  I  am  glad  you  have  come,  for 
I  have  been  gloomy  all  the  afternoon." 

"  What,  gloomy  so  near  your  wedding-day !  This  is 
not  in  character.  To-morrow  evening  we  are  to  be  united 
in  the  bonds  of  matrimony ;  and  the  thought  of  this  should 
bring  joy  to  your  heart,  and  a  glow  of  enthusiasm  and 
expected  happiness  to  your  cheeks." 

"  So  it  should,  my  lord,  but  I  am  a  strange  and  per- 
verse being,  you  know.'  Sometimes  I  think  I  am  not 
worthy  of  becoming  the  wife  of  one  so  kind  and  attentive 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  123 

as  you  have  proved  yourself  since  our  acquaintance  begun ; 
and  if  you  ever  have  such  a  thought,  I  shall  not  hesitate 
to  release  you  from  the  promises  made  —  " 

"  Do  not  speak  of  it,  dear  Lucretia.  Were  I  a  hun- 
dred times  more  wealthy,  respected  and  influential,  I 
should  deem  you  well  worthy  of  being  my  wife.  I  am 
impatient  for  the  hour  to  arrive  that  is  to  unite  us  in  mar- 
riage. With  thee  I  shall  be  happy.  With  thee  the 
world  will  be  a  heaven,  and  life  a  continual  round  of  the 
deepest  joys  and  pleasures  the  soul  can  feel." 

"  Heaven  grant  it !  "  was  the  response  of  Lucretia,  as  a 
look  of  agony  flitted  over  her  face,  tears  dimmed  her 
eyes,  a  tremor  of  emotion  swept  over  her  form,  and  her 
head  sunk  forward  upon  the  count's  bosom. 


III. 

THE  ASSASSINATION. 

IT  was  an  hour  later.  The  mask  of  St.  Peter's  was 
standing  in  the  shadow  cast  by  one  of  the  mighty  arches 
of  the  bridge  of  St.  Anglo's,  and  gazing  forth  upon  the 
turbid  waters  of  the  Tiber.  Near  him,  behind  a  pillar  of 
the  bridge,  stood  a  man  that  presented  a  similar  appear- 
ance, as  he  wore  a  mask  and  a  black  cloak. 

The  stranger  was  observing  the  mask  very  attentively, 
and  signified  by  his  actions  a  desire  to  address  him.  Their 
eyes  met  at  last,  and  the  stranger  beckoned  the  man  of 
crime  and  mystery  to  the  shade  in  which  he  stood  con- 
cealed. 

"  You  are  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's,"  was  the  first  Balu- 


124  THE  CRIMES  OF 

tation  of  the  unknown,  after  that  personage  had  crossed 
over  to  him. 

"  I  am,  as  you  very  well  know,  without  my  assurance. 
The  black  cloak,  my  blacker  mask,  and  the  good  dagger  I 
wear  at  my  belt,  have  long  since  rendered  it  needless  for 
any  dweller  in  Rome  to  question  who  I  am." 

"  True ;  but  we  must  have  our  preliminaries,  in  convers- 
ing with  strangers,  you  know,"  rejoined  the  unknown,  with 
a  smile.  "  I  am  very  well  aware  that  you  are  the  mask 
of  St.  Peter's,  and  it  is  this  knowledge  that  has  led  me  to 
call  upon  you  at  the  present  time.  I  have  some  urgent 
business  with  you " 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,  but  no  man  has  any  business  with  me 
who  comes  with  his  face  disguised.  You  cannot  command 
my  attention  until  you  have  removed  that  mask  frraa  your 
countenance." 

"But,  consider  that  there  are  certain  circumstances 
under  which  a  man  does  not  care  to  become  known  to  the 
agents  he  employs." 

"  0,  very  well ;  I  do  not  intend  to  exchange  any  words 
on  the  subject.  I  have  only  to  say  that  I  meant  what  I 
said,  and  bid  you  a  very  good-evening;  "  and  the  mask 
turned  upon  his  heel,  as  if  about  to  depart. 

"  Stay,"  said  the  other,  seizing  his  arm.  "  I  will  un- 
mask, if  you  pledge  your  word  of  honor  that  you  will 
never  make  use  against  me  of  whatever  knowledge  you 
may  gain  by  the  transaction.  Do  you  promise  ?  " 

"  Seiior,  I  do  not  promise  anything.  Were  there  any 
occasion  for  such  a  pledge  on  my  part,  it  should  be  given ; 
but  you  very  well  know  it  is  not  required.  I  do  as  I 
please.  If  I  have  a  motive  sufficient  to  warrant  me  in 
denouncing  a  man,  I  do  it.  If  I  choose  to  do  a 'good 


ALEXANDER   BOBGIA.  125 

deed,  I  do  it ;  and  if  I  choose  to  do  a  bad  one,  it  is  need- 
less for  any  one  to  offer  opposition.  If  I  have  cause  to 
be  a  man's  friend,  I  am  so ;  if  I  have  a  motive  and  a 
reason  for  being  his  enemy,  I  am  generally  a  deadly  one. 
Neither  love  or  hate  can  ever  sour  in  my  breast.  You 
now  know  a  few  of  my  views  ;  and  if  you  choose  to  trust 
me,  you  can  do  so.  If  not,  you  are  at  liberty  to  keep  your 
secrets  in  your  own  heart." 

"  I  must  trust  you  —  must  have  your  aid ;  and  there- 
fore I  will  not  offer  any  further  objections  to  your  desire," 
was  the  reply  of  the  unknown,  as  he  removed  the  mask 
from  his  visage. 

The  mask  of  St.  Peter's  started  at  the  face  that  met  his 
vie\%  and  there  was  a  significant  gleam  in  his  eye  as  he 
observed, 

"  I  know  you  very  well.  You  are  Cardinal  Montelli. 
You  have  sought  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's.  Thus  far  I 
understand  you.  Now,  sir,  your  business." 

"  Is  of  a  peculiar  nature.  You  already  know  that  I 
am  rich  and  powerful,  and  that  I  have  a  desire  to  become 
Pope.  All  I  have  now  to  do  is,  to  secure  your  aid,  and 
inform  you  that  I  have  thought  of  a  method  for  placing 
myself  in  the  pontifical  chair  !  " 

"  Indeed  !  "  and  the  mask  started.  "  I  shall  be  pleased 
to  hear  your  plans  for  the  execution  of  such  a  project."  . 

"  But  I  can  trust  you?  " 

"  Certainly.  If  you  feel  even  the  shadow  of  a  sus- 
picion on  the  subject,  reflect  for  a  moment  upon  the  feel- 
ings I  must  necessarily  bear  those  who  made  me  the  odious 
monster  I  am,  —  a  thing  for  general.abhorrence.  Does  it 
eeem  likely  that  one  who  has  been  forced,  under  penalty 
of  death,  to  fill  the  position  I  have  done  for  the  last  fif- 


126  THE  CRIMES   OP 

teen  years  or  more,  would  be  capable  of  betraying  any  one 
to  those  who  forced  him  to  such  a  revolting  step, —  the  Pope 
and  the  cardinals?" 

"  Say  no  more.  I  am  convinced  that  I  can  confide  in 
you  ;  and  so,  to  the  business  that  called  me  hither.  As  I 
before  observed,  I  have  matured  a  plan  for  becoming  Pope. 
I  have  contrived  to  make  myself  the  most  powerful  man 
in  Rome,  not  excepting  Pope  Alexander  VI. " 

"  True  —  most  true !  "  muttered  the  mask,  with  a 
slight  intonation  of  bitterness. 

"  I  have  made  myself  alike  popular  with  the  cardinals, 
the  priests  and  the  people.  Were  Borgia  to  die,  I  should 
undoubtedly  be  called  to  fill  his  place.  Such  being  the 
state  of  affairs,  you  can  readily  understand  that  fcdo  not 
pray  that  his  life  may  be  unusually  lengthy." 

"  I  understand  you ;  the  project  bears  the  evidence  of 
a  master  mind  on  its  front.  But  how  do  you  propose  to 
remove  the  Pope  ?  " 

Cardinal  Montelli  gazed  upon  the  form  before  him  for  a 
moment,  as  if  he  would  fain  read  his  thoughts ;  then  he 
replied,  laconically, 

"  By  employing  your  dagger  !  " 

Again  the  mask  started,  in  a  manner  that  would  have 
struck  an  observer  as  being  somewhat  peculiar. 

"  What  reward  have  you  concluded  to  offer  as  an  equiv- 
alent for  my  friendly  offices  in  this  matter  ?  "  he  asked, 
at  length. 

"Enough  to  make  it  an  object  for  you  to  aid  me. 
What  do  you  say  to  five  thousand  maravedi  ?  " 

"  Just  half  enough^"  was  the  decisive  response. 

"  I  see  you  are  determined  to  name  the  price,  and  make 
no  words  about  it.  Well,  I  will  not  complain.  Levers 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  127 

must  rest  upon  a  substantial  fulcrum.  Do  the  deed,  slay 
Alexander  Borgia,  and  you  shall  have  the  ten  thousand 
maravedi ! " 

"  You  are  generous  !  "  observed  the  mask,  as  his  dark 
eyes  flashed  vengefully,  his  form  trembled,  and  his  hand 
toyed  nervously  with  the  hilt  of  his  dagger.  "  Most 
generous  !  I  shall  accept  your  offer.  But  when  must  the 
deed  be  done,  and  the  money  be  paid  ?  " 

"  The  sooner  your  part  of  the  contract  is  fulfilled,  the 
better.  As  for  mine,  you  can  have  the  money  now,  if  you 
choose,  as  I  brought  it  with  me ;  "  and  he  produced  a 
heavy  bag  of  gold. 

"  You  are  quite  thoughtful  and  considerate !  "  said  the 
mask,  as  he  received  it ;  and  the  expression  of  his  eyes 
grew  Aore  malignant  as  he  spoke.  His  excitement  had 
now  become  so  evident  that  his  companion  noticed  it. 

"  What  means  this  agitation?"  he  demanded.  "  Haa 
any  one  been  witnessing  what  we  have  done,  or  listening 
to  our  words?  You  tremble;  you  clutch  your  weapon 
nervously.  Are  you  ill  ?  " 

The  mask  did  not  reply  in  words,  —  his  answer  was  a 
terrible  deed.  He  turned  with  the  quickness  of  thought, 
and  buried  his  dagger  in  Montelli's  bosom ! 

"  Treachery  !  Help  !  "  exclaimed  the  fated  man,  as  he 
sank  down  in  the  agonies  of  death. 

The  mask  uttered  a  hoarse  laugh,  as  he  dragged  him 
where  the  shade  lay  deeper  on  the  bridge,  and  knelt 
beside  him. 

"  Treachery  !  —  help  !  "  he  repeated,  mockingly.  "  It 
ill  becomes  a  traitor  of  your  stamp  to  use  such  words. 
List  you,  Cardinal  Montelli ;  I  would  have  you  under- 
stand the  cause  of  this  conduct,  which  to  you  appears  BO 


128  TIP   CRIMES   OF 

singular.  Know  you  that  I  am  a  friend  of  Alexander 
Borgia  —  his  particular  friend ;  ay,  one  so  much  bound 
up  in  his  interest  that,  had  passion  not  got  the  better  of 
reason,  and  caused  me  to  take  summary  justice,  I  would 
have  hung  you  on  a  gallows  higher  than  Hainan's  !  It  is 
well  that  you  came  to  me ;  I  thank  you  for  this  judicious 
selection  of  a  tool  for  this  purpose." 

The  mask  ceased  speaking,  for  he  saw  that  his  victim 
was  dead.     A  moment  he  gazed  upon  the  pale,  distorted 
features  that  were  upturned  to  his  view  ;  then  he  clutched 
the  bag  of  gold  with  a  tighter  grasp,  and  a  low  chuckle  of  - 
satisfaction  escaped  him. 

"  All  goes  well,"  he  muttered.  "  The  most  dangerous 
enemy  the  Pope  has  had  for  years  is  dead.  I  have  taken 
his  life,  and  now  possess  a  portion  of  his  money,  which 
comes,  just  at  this  time,  as  a  godsend.  Ten  thousand 
maravedi !  There  's  quite  enough  to  celebrate  Donna  Lu- 
cretia's  wedding  in  grand  style,  and  it  shall  be  applied  for 
that  purpose.  As  for  this  self-deluded  fool,  he  is  justly 
punished.  I  knew  he  was  ambitious,  but  did  not  suspect 
him  of  such  boldness.  He  may  have  had  backers ;  indeed, 
I  am  led  to  believe  that  he  did,  as  he  alluded  to  his  popu- 
larity with  his  fellow-cardinals.  I  must  see  to  this  at 
once.  There  may  be  many  concerned  in  this  conspiracy. 
But  let  them  beware !  Those  who  offend  Alexander  Bor- 
gia, or  plot  against  him,  are  treading  on  a  volcano  that 
may  destroy  them  at  any  moment.  I  will  pay  the  council 
of  cardinals  a  visit  at  their  next  sitting,  and  see  if  I  can 
gain  any  new  insight  into  their  sentiments." 

The  mask  now  wiped  the  blade  of  his  weapon  on  the 
garments  of  the  murdered  man  ;  replaced  it  in  its  sheath, 
and  walked  musingly  away  in  the  direction  of  the  palaco 
of  the  Borgias. 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  .  129 

IV. 

THE   COUNCII* 

THE  scene  was  a  room  in  the  Inquisition.  A  number 
of  cardinals  were  seated  therein,  among  them  Corneto. 

"  Where  is  Caesar  Borgia  and  Cardinal  Montelli  ?  "  he 
asked.  "  It  appears  that  they  have  absented  themselves 
from  this  meeting.  Well,  so  much  the  better.  Fasten 
the  door,  Hugi,  and  admit  no  one  without  my  orders." 

The  messenger  obeyed.  Corneto  then  turned  to  his 
companions,  and  thus  addressed  them  : 

"  Probably  you  are  all  anxious  to  know  why  I  have 
called  you  together  to-night.  I  will  tell  you.  Dangers 
unseen  and  deadly  are  menacing  us,  especially  myself. 
The  Pope  and  his  son  have  been  plotting  against  my  life, 
perhaps  against  the  life  of  each  of  you ! " 

"  How  learned  you  this  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  cardinals. 

"  By  accident  on  the  part  of  Hugi,  our  messenger.  I 
sent  him  to  Borgia's  palace  last  evening,  on  business.  The 
Pope  was  not  in  his  room,  but  the  servants  said  he  was 
doubtless  in  the  palace.  The  messenger  went  in  search  of 
him,  and  soon  found  him  in  his  son's  room.  They  two 
were  conversing  together ;  and  there  was  something  so 
peculiar  in  their  manners,  at  the  moment  Hugi  pushed  the 
door  ajar  and  looked  in  upon. them,  that  he  could  not  resist 
his  inclination  to  listen.  Listen  he  did,  and  heard  them 
decide  upon  poisoning  me ;  which  knowledge  had  so  much 
influence  upon  him,  that  he  hastened  to  me,  without  waiting 
to  make  known  his  business." 

"  But  are  you  sure  that  this  twain  have  thus  plotted 
against  you  ?  Can  you  depend  upon  Hugi's  word  7  " 


130 


THE   CRIMES   OF 


"  Most  implicitly,  and  could  not  be  more  firmly  con- 
vinced of  the  plot  against  me  had  I  heard  it  with  my  own 
ears.  I  have  long  been  suspicious  of  the  Pope,  —  have 
long  thought  that  there  is  no  crime  too  revolting  for  him 
to  execute ;  and  you  can  all  rest  assured  that  I  shall  be  on 
my  guard  against  him." 

A  door  at  the  further  end  of  the  apartment  opened  at 
this  juncture,  and  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's  entered,  unseen 
and  unheard  by  any  person  in  the  group. 

"  And  there  's  the  mask,"  continued  Corneto.  "  He 
seems  to  have  changed  for  the  worse  of  late.  It  may  be 
that  he  has  not  really  turned  traitor  to  us,  but  he  is  most 
wofully  careless  lately  in  the  execution  of  his  orders.  I 
told  you  at  our  last  meeting  of  his  affair  with  Delano,  — 
how  he  allowed  him  to  live  more  than  two  weeks  after  we 
condemned  him,  and  finally  slew  him  in  the  most  barbar- 
ous manner.  Such  things  are  far  from  being  satisfactory 
to  me,  as  a  member  of  this  council ;  and  I  motion  that 
we  establish  a  secret  espionage  over  Borgia,  and  take 
measures  to  punish  the  mask  !  " 

"  Agreed ;  the  proposition  is  a  good  one,  and  should  be 
acted  upon  at  once,"  said  the  cardinal  on  the  immediate 
left  of  Corneto.  "  For  my  part,  I  am  satisfied  that  there 
is  an  urgent  necessity  for  us  to  be  on  our  guard  against 
both  of  the  persons  to  whom  you  have  alluded,  —  the 
Pope  and  the  mask.  They  -  both  work  together ;  both 
seem  to  have  a  terrible  understanding  between  themselves, 
and  both  may  be  even  now  plotting  against  the  life  of 
every  one  of  us !  " 

"  Ay,  and  it  is  more  than  likely  that  they  are,"  added 
another  of  the  group.  "  You  may  all  think  what  you 
please,  but  I  am  convinced  that  the  mask  has  plotted 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  131 

against  others,  and  may  against  us.  To  speak  more  plain- 
ly, I  am  satisfied  that  the  mask  could  explain  the  absence 
of  Montelli  from  this  meeting.  It  has  been  rumored  to- 
day that  a  man,  who  might  have  been  Montelli,  was  as- 
sassinated on  the  bridge  of  St.  Anglos  last  evening,  and 
his  body  sunk  by  two  servants  in  the  Tiber.  The  story 
may  be  but  a  rumor,  and  the  object  of  our  suspicion  may 
have  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  deed,  if  it  has  really  been 
committed ;  but  still,  I  second  the  words  of  Corneto  —  let 
Borgia  be  watched,  and  the  mask  punished  for  his  past 
neglect  of  our  orders !  " 

"  Agreed !  "  was  the  response,  coming  from  an  unex- 
pected quarter ;  and,  as  the  cardinals  started  to  their  feet, 
the  mask  of  St.  Peter's  moved  forward  and  stood  before 
them. 


V. 

THE   MYSTERY   OF   THE   MASK. 

FOR  the  space  of  a  minute  the  cardinals  all  gazed  upon 
the  mask  without  moving  or  speaking,  while  anger  and 
confusion  were  written  upon  their  features. 

"  You  here !  "  cried  Corneto,  at  length.  "  Devil !  how 
dare  you  thus  intrude  upon  us  ?  " 

"Cardinal  Corneto  forgets  the  character  of  the  mask 
when  he  insinuates  that  there  is  anything  evil  the  mask 
dare  not  do,"  was  the  sneering  response.  "  When  I  have 
been  painted  in  as  black  and  revolting  colors  as  certain 
persons  now  present  have  used  in  speaking  of  me,  there  ia 
no  occasion  to  wonder  at  anything  I  may  do,  —  at  least,  I 
should  so  judge,"  and  again  the  mocking  sneer  curled  his 
lips,  though  it  was  unseen. 


132  TIIE    CRIMES   OP 

"  You  have  heard  no  good  of  yourself  by  listening," 
continued  Corneto.  "  To  the  contrary,  you  have  heard,  as 
listeners  always  do  of  themselves,  much  that  is  ill ;  and 
I,  for  one,  am  glad  that  you  have  presented  yourself  thus, 
unasked  and  unexpected,  in  our  midst.  We  now  have  an 
opportunity  of  questioning  you,  —  perhaps  a  chance  to 
learn  whether  you  are  as  guilty  as  report  bespeaks  you,  or 
not." 

"  Very  well,  sir ;  question  me,  if  such  is  your  desire," 
was  the  reply,  indifferently  uttered. 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  would  ask  you  why  you  came 
here  without  a  summons  from  our  Council  ?  " 

"  Because  it  pleased  me  to  do  so." 

"  And  so  you  have  become  so  self-willed,  and  a  person 
of  such  importance  in  your  own  estimation,  that  you  con- 
sult no  one's  will  but  your  own,  eh  ?  Matters  have  reached 
a  pretty  crisis,  indeed,  when  a  mere  hireling  of  the  Coun- 
cil ventures  to  assume  the  privileges  you  are  taking  to 
yourself.  If  we  submit  to  such  insults  as  these  from  a 
man  whose  very  life  is  not  his  own,  but  held  through  our 
clemency,  then  are  we  the  most  despicable  of  men.  For 
one,  I  will  not  longer  brook  your  insolent  conduct  and 
your  neglect  of  our  orders ;  and  I  now  summons  you,  in 
the  name  of  the  Council,  to  lay  aside  your  cloak,  mask, 
and  dagger,  and  surrender  yourself  a  prisoner." 

The  mask  received  the  words  with  a  sneering  laugh. 

"Indeed,  my  lord,"  was  the  calm  reply,  "you  are 
quite  moderate  in  your  requests ;  but  I  beg  leave  to 
ipform  you  that  I  cannot  comply  with  your  wishes  at 
present." 

"  But  you  shall  comply  with  them,  even  if  force  has  to 
be  used  to  effect  that  purpose.  You  are  a  traitor,  a  spy, 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  133 

and  a  renegade.  The  pledges  under  which  you  held  your 
life  have  all  been  broken  ;  and  I  shall  be  much  mistaken 
if  the  death  you  have  merited  by  your  late  deportment  is 
not  speedily  yours.  Do  you  understand  me  ?  Surrender 
at  once,  or  we  shall  resort  to  force." 

"  Try  it,  if  you  dare  !  "  said  the  mask,  coolly,  though 
it  was  evident  that  strong  excitement  was  raging  in  his 
breast.  "  The  first  man  that  lays  hands  upon  me  will  be 
the  first  to  die.  If  any  one  of  your  number  is  ambitious 
of  such  distinction,  let  him  come  on  !  " 

There  was  no  reply.  The  very  audacity  of  the  mask's 
words,  no  less  than  his  position,  seemed  sufficient  to  keep 
them  silent. 

"  Now,  senors,"  said  the  mask,  quietly,  after  a  short 
pause,  "  if  you  are  ready  to  hear  an  explanation,  I  am 
ready  to  give  it ;  but  I  wish  you  to  distinctly  understand 
that  I  do  not  come  here  to  be  bullied  or  frightened.  You, 
Cardinal  Corneto,  have  alluded  to  the  circumstances  under 
which  I  hold  my  life,  as  you  flatter  yourself,  from  your 
august  body  j  but  allow  me  to  observe  that  you  are  all 
mistaken." 

"  That  is  net  possible.  Were  you  not  found  guilty  of 
assassinating  a  man  in  one  of  the  streets  of  Rome,  and 
condemned  to  death,  and  only  released  on  your  promise 
of  becoming  the  executioner  of  our  victims,  which  charac- 
ter you  assumed  something  like  fifteen  years  ago " 

"  Fifteen  years  ago,"  interrupted  the  mask,  "  a  man 
was  discovered  standing  beside  the  body  of  a  person  he 
had  slain,  —  discovered  by  members  of  this  Council.  The 
assassin  was  condemned,  as  you  have  just  stated,  but  was 
spared  on  the  conditions  you  have  mentioned,  and  of  which 
12 


134  THE  CHIMES  0* 

you  have  often  taken  occasion  to  remind  me,  under  the 
belief  that  I  am  that  assassin." 

"  Under  the  belief  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  Do  you 
intend  to  say  that  you  are  not  the  man  whose  life  was  thus 
spared  ?  " 

"  That  is  just  wha^I  wish  you  to  understand,  for  I  am 
not  that  person.  It  matters  not  who  or  what  I  was  at 
that  time ;  it  is  sufficient  for  me  to  say  that  I  envied  the 
security,  and  coveted  the  power,  the  assumption  of  this 
cloak  and  mask  gave  the  possessor.  My  mind  was  deter- 
mined on  a  deed  that  should  win  me  both ;  my  hand  was 
strong  to  execute  that  determination.  I  laid  in  wait  for 
this  assassin,  on  the  bridge  of  St.  Angelo,  and  was  emi- 
nently successful  in  the  design.  The  assassin  was  in  his 
turn  assassinated  ;  and  I  —  /,  my  lord  cardinals,  became 
the  executioner  of  your  wishes,  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's !  " 

All  started  back  in  the  greatest  surprise  at  this  an- 
nouncement. 

"  And  who  are  you?"  asked  Corneto,  as  soon  as  his 
astonishment  would  permit  him. 

The  mask  moved  forward,  and  laid  his  hand  impress- 
ively upon  the  questioner's  arm ;  and  when  he  spoke  his 
voice  was  sterner  than  ever. 

"  Who  am  I  ?  Listen,  and  you  shall  know.  I  am  one 
who  knows  each  and  every  one  of  you  better  than  you 
know  yourselves.  I  know  your  thoughts,  your  motives, 
and  your  intentions ;  and  when  they  are  of  an  order  it  is 
not  my  pleasure  to  countenance,  I  know  very  well  how  to 
thwart  them.  Some  one  of  your  number  has  intimated 
his  belief  that  I  know  something  in  reference  to  the  dis- 
appearance of  Cardinal  Montelli.  He  is  right;  I  have 
that  knowledge.  'T  was  my  dagger,  my  hand,  that  let  out 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA. 


135 


the  miscreant's  traitorous  blood ;  and,"  he  added,  with  a 
fierce  look,  "  there  are  more  than  one  of  this  assemblage 
who  will  be  similarly  dealt  with,  if  there  is  not  a  speedy 
change  in  their  deportment !  " 

"  Ha  !  do  you  threaten  us  ?  "  exclaimed  Corneto,  draw- 
ing his  sword.  "  What,  ho  !  Hugi !  «ftll  the  guard  !  " 

"  Call  away  till  doomsday,  if  it  please  you  !  "  said  the 
mask,  with  a  sneer.  "  No  one  hears  you  save  my  friends, 
—  your  enemies.  Would  you  know  who  they  are  ?  Be- 
hold them ! "  and  he  stamped  his  foot  heavily  upon  the 
floor. 

A  door  opened,  and  admitted  half  a  dozen  masked  men, 
wearing  black  cloaks,  and  each  carrying  a  blood-stained 
dagger  in  his  right  hand.  They  gazed  silently  upon  the 
cardinals  for  a  moment ;  then  the  mask  waved  his  hand, 
and  they  retired  as  they  came. 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  what  means  this  mystery,  and  who 
are  you  ?  "  cried  Corneto,  excitedly. 

"  I  am  simply  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's,"  was  the  reply. 
"  If  you  have  become  convinced  that  I  am  not  so  much 
the  tool  but  that  I  can,  if  necessary,  be  the  master,  my 
business  is  settled,  and  I  will  take  my  leave.  But  allow 
me  to  caution  you  all  against  plotting  to  injure  me,  for 
such  attempts  will  be  very  likely  to  recoil  on  your  own 
heads.  Remember  this,  and  govern  yourselves  according- 
ly. Farewell,  and  a  pleasant  night  to  each  of  you !  " 

And  turning,  with  an  air  of  contempt,  the  mask  strode 
from  the  room,  leaving  the  cardinals  in  a  state  of  stupe- 
faction. 


136  THE   CHIMES   OJ 

VI. 

FURTHER   PLOTTINGS. 

THE  surprise  of  the  cardinals  kept  them  silent  for  sev- 
eral moments.  Coraeto  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Cardinals,"  said  he,  "  there  goes  a  dangerous  man ! 
One  whom  we  must  crush,  or  who  will  crush  us  ;  a  man 
of  mystery,  whom  none  of  us  understand.  He  has  been 
the  most  humble  of  servants ;  you  see  that  he  can  be  the 
most  stern  and  powerful  of  masters.  He  must  be  re- 
moved, or  from  this  hour  we  hold  our  lives  only  by  his 
permission.  But,  how  can  we  dispose  of  him?  Send 
priests  among  the  people,  to  incite  them  to  vengeance 
against  the  mask,  for  the  many  assassinations  from  which 
they  have  suffered  at  his  hands  ?  No,  that  will  not  do ; 
he  would  hear  of  the  plot,  and  thwart  it.  We  must  con- 
trive something  that  will  prove  speedily  sure.  But  what 
shall  it  be  ?  Let  me  think.  What  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  A  summary  arrest  and  instant  execution,"  was  the 
reply  of  an  old,  gray-headed  cardinal,  who  sat  opposite 
Corneto.  "  The  emergency  is  one  that  will  admit  of  no 
child's  play;  we  must  strike  boldly  and  at  once.  My 
advice  is  to  send  a  strong  detachment  of  officers  from  the 
Inquisition  to  arrest  the  mask  at  his  residence,  the  palace 
that  was  built  for  him  by  the  church,  in  consideration  of 
his  services  as  public  executioner.  Let  us  drag  him  forth 
to  a  dungeon,  try  him  by  our  right  as  the  secret  council 
of  cardinals,  condemn  him  by  our  authority,  and  gibbet 
him  by  our  power.  This  is  the  only  way  in  which  he  can 
be  placed  beyond  the  power  to  do  us  harm." 

"  You  have  spoken  very  sensibly,  and  to  the  point," 


ALEXANDER    BORGIA.  137 

said  Corneto.  "  I  most  strongly  advocate  the  course  you 
have  advanced.  We  have  all  been  insulted,  again  and 
again,  by  the  mask.  He  has  neglected  our  orders,  and 
despised  all  our  intimations  of  punishment.  Even  in  our 
very  presence,  within  the  hour,  he  has  dared  to  boast  that 
it  was  his  hand  that  assassinated  Montelli,  one  of  the 
most  worthy  and  respected  members  of  our  Council.  In 
view  of  such  outrages  as  these,  there  is  but  one  course  to 
adopt  towards  him,  —  death  !  " 

The  cardinals  severally  expressed  their  approval  of  the 
plan,  and  the  result  of  a  few  moments'  deliberation  was, 
that  a  body  of  Inquisitorial  officers  should  arrest  the  mask 
as  soon  as  arrangements  could  be  made  for  that  purpose. 
The  council  then  adjourned. 


VII. 

FATHER   JANZEN. 

IT  was  later  still.  The  Count  Luanza  stood  in  a 
lonely  hall,  gazing  forth  upon  the  sullen  waters  of  the 
Tiber. 

"  The  lady  does  not  confess  ;  never  visits  a  confessional, 
or  receives  the  visits  of  a  priest.  Why  is  it  ?  There  is  a 
mystery  here  which  I  must  unravel.  She  has  secrets 
which  I  must  gain.  Only  one  person  has  power  to  draw 
them  forth,  —  Father  Janzen.  I  will  see  him  at  once  !  " 

He  had  only  to  ring  a  bell,  give  his  orders  to  a  servant, 
and  wait  a  few  moments,  at  the  end  of  which  time  Father 
Janzen  was  ushered  into  his  presence. 

"  Leave  us,"  commanded  the  count,  and  the  servant 
obeyed. 

12* 


138  THE  CRIMES   OF 

"  Now  to  business.  Be  seated,  Father  Janzen,  and  join 
me  in  a  glass  of  wine." 

The  priest  obeyed,  drinking  it  with  an  apparent  relish 
that  proclaimed  he  was  not  a  total  stranger  to  its  good 
qualities. 

"So  much  for  the  wine.  Now,  good  Father  Janzen, 
I  '11  proceed  to  make  known  the  purpose  of  this  interview. 
You  know  that  I  am  engaged  to  be  married  to  Donna 
Lucretia.  Indeed,  the  ceremony  was  to  have  taken  place 
this  evening,  but  she  has  desired  me  to  postpone  it  a  day 
or  two,  as  she  was  this  morning  taken  suddenly  and  seri- 
ously ill.  She  is  now  in  her  room  at  the  palace." 

"  Well,"  muttered  the  priest,  who  seemed  to  have  an 
intuitive  perception  of  what  was  required  of  him. 

"  I  wish  you  to  see  Donna  Lucretia,  and  make  an 
attempt  to  gain  possession  of  the  secrets  that  weigh  so 
heavily  upon  her  mind  and  body.  You  have  doubtless 
marked  the  change  that  has  lately  taken  place  in  her 
appearance.  I  hardly  know  what  to  attribute  it  to  ;  but 
I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  there  has  been  a  terri- 
ble cause,  which  she  conceals  in  her  own  breast.  You 
must  see  her,  and  learn  whether  my  suspicions  are  true  or 
not." 

"  I  will  gladly  do  so,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then  do  so  at  once.  She  will  probably  be  at  home 
to-night.  I  have  an  engagement  with  her ;  but  you  shall 
bear  my  apologies  for  not  keeping  it,  and  do  the  service  I 
require  of  you." 

Again  the  priest  muttered  his  acquiescence. 

"  And  while  she  is  revealing  her  secrets,  should  she 
favor  us  by  doing  so,  you  need  not  be  surprised  if  you 
should  see  me  enter  your  presence,  —  by  a  secret  door,  a 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  139 

hidden  panel,  or  an  open  window.  I  have  a  peculiar 
method  for  making  calls  when  I  desire  to  be  invisible ; 
and  I  possess  a  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  mysteries  of 
the  Borgia  palace  to  make  it  the  scene  of  an  exploit  of 
this  kind.  To  sum  up  all,  —  bring  about  this  interview, 
to  which  I  shall  make  it  an  especial  point  of  my  conduct 
to  listen." 

"  I  understand  you,  and  will  do  all  I  can  to  execute 
your  wishes.  If  it  is  possible  for  me  to  wring  the  secret 
from  her,  I  will  do  so." 

"  Thanks.  This  is  not  the  first  time  you  have  made  me 
your  debtor." 

A  few  words  more  passed  between  them  relative  to 
preliminary  arrangements,  and  then  Father  Janzen  de- 
parted. 


VIII. 

THE   SURPRISE. 

STERN,  pale,  and  trembling  with  excitement,  Hernaldo 
Zinna  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  "  Leaguers,"  the  body  of 
men  that  looked  up  to  him  as  their  leader.  They  were  in 
the  underground  hall,  where  they  had  met  on  previous 
occasions.  The  young  man  had  been  addressing  them, — 
he  had  spoken  of  their  own  wrongs,  and  of  those  that  he 
feared  had  befallen  La  Belle  Floretta. 

«'  If  not  dead,"  were  his  concluding  remarks,  "  she  is 
confined  in  the  palace  of  the  Borgias,  or  in  the  dungeon 
of  the  Inquisition.  How  many  are  there  in  this  assem- 
blage that  will  go  with  me  to  the  rescue  ?  " 

"  All,  —  all !  "  came  up  from  the  lips  of  each,  like  a 
mighty  echo  of  his  will. 


140  THE   CRIMES   OF 

"  And  you  will  go  with  me  now,  —  this  very  hour  ?  " 

"  Ay,  the  sooner  the  better  for  our  purpose,  —  the  bet- 
ter for  the  gratification  of  our  own  wishes.  Death  to  the 
Borgias  !  death  to  the  cardinals  !  death  to  the  mask  of  St. 
Peter's  !  death  to  the  church  of  Rome  !  " 

A  mocking  laugh  succeeded,  coming  from  the  man  who 
guarded  the  door.  It  was  not  loud,  nor  hoarse ;  but  it 
came  so  unexpectedly,  and  under  such  circumstances,  that 
it  seemed  truly  infernal, —  a  demoniac  laugh  of  exultation. 

And  it  was  not  one  laugh  alone  that  fell  upon  their 
ears ;  it  was  caught  up,  —  it  was  echoed  by  many  voices, 
until  the  very  walls  around  them  rang  with  a  chorus  of 
infernal  laughter. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  what  mean  these  sounds  ? 
Have  fiends  taken  possession  of  our  hall  ?  " 

"  Ha,  ha ! "  laughed  those  malignant  and  exultant  voices 
in  reply.  "  Ha,  ha  !  " 

And  then  those  strong  men  cowered  down,  and  trembled 
with  horror,  while  their  faces  became  deathly  pale ;  for  it 
flashed  upon  their  minds  that  they  were  beset  by  the 
Inquisition. 

"  Fiend  !  "  cried  Zinna,  darting  toward  the  door-keeper, 
who  had  commenced  the  mocking  laughter  that  now  as- 
sailed his  ears.  "  Why  this  laugh  ?  Art  thou  a  demon 
in  the  guise  of  man  ?  Speak,  and  tell  me  who  thou  art !  " 

Then  he  recoiled  with  a  terrible  cry,  for  the  cloak  had 
fallen  from  the  form  of  the  man  before  him,  a  mask 
that  concealed  a  mask  was  torn  from  his  face,  and  Zinna 
saw  that  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's  stood  before  him. 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  he  laughed,  in  tones  of  hellish  glee. 

And    those    mocking  voices    echoed    it,  —  echoed    it 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  141 

throughout  the  hall,  until  the  sense  of  hearing  on  the  part 
of  the  "  Leaguers  "  seemed  benumbed. 

Zinna  drew  his  weapon,  as  did  one  of  his  followers ;  but 
the  mask  stepped  calmly  towards  them,  as  calmly  spoke. 

"  Gentlemen,  you  are  all  the  prisoners  of  the  mask  of 
St.  Peter's.  If  you  doubt  my  word?,  behold  the  proof!  " 

The  door  by  which  all  had  entered  opened  as  he  ceased 
speaking.  Then  another  was  discovered,  —  another,  the 
fourth,  the  fifth  ;  and  now  they  were  thrown  open  in  such 
numbers  around  them,  that  the  walls  seemed  full  of  them. 

In  breathless  silence  the  Leaguers  waited  the  denoue- 
ment. Nor  waited  long.  A  host  of  silent  men,  wearing 
the  cowl  and  cloak  that  characterized  them  as  officers  of 
the  Inquisition,  made  their  appearance,  entering  quietly 
one  after  the  other,  and  all  well  armed.  Their  numbers 
soon  exceeded  those  of  the  "  Leaguers ; "  and  still  they 
continued  coming.  The  hall  was  crowded  with  them,  the 
doorways  were  guarded  by  them,  and  every  avenue  of 
escape  cut  off.  t 

"  Lost,  lost !  "  cried  Zinna.  "  Hell  is  reigning  on  earth ; 
its  demons  all  before  me  !  " 

In  the  course  of  two  minutes  every  one  of  the  "  Leag- 
uers "  were  seized  and  ironed  by  the  Inquisitors.  They 
made  no  resistance ;  they  knew  it  was  useless  to  contend 
against  such  odds.  Zinna  alone  remained  free.  He 
noticed  the  omission,  and  thought  he  had  been  reserved 
for  some  additional  insult.  With  a  sneer  upon  his  lips,  a 
look  of  defiance  on  his  face,  he  held  out  his  hands  to  be 
bound. 

11  No,  no  !  "  and  the  mask  shook  his  head.  "  We  do 
not  want  you ;  we  give  you  your  liberty ;  you  are  free 
to  go." 


142       THE  CRIMES  OP  ALEXANDER  BORGIA. 

"  But  I  will  not  stir  one  step.  I  desire  to  die  with  my 
comrades !  " 

"  Then,  if  you  are  so  obstinate,  we  will  depart  with 
your  friends  here,  and  you  may  remain  alone  in  these 
vaults,"  was  the  reply,  and  the  intimation  was  acted  upon 
as  soon  as  possible.  The  hall  waa  soon  cleared,  —  Zinna 
was  left  alone. 

"  Alone ! "  He  uttered  the  word,  and  it  rang  through- 
out the  hall  like  a  knell.  "  Alone  !  "  Again  he  repeated 
it,  as  he  thought  of  La  Belle  Floretta ;  and  he  threw 
himself  upon  his  knees  beside  the  table,  weeping  and 
praying. 

It  was  midnight  ere  he  arose  and  went  forth,  and  when 
he  finally  sought  the  open  air  he  was  still  frenziedly  mut- 
tering that  word,  "  Alone,  alone  !  " 

For  the  light  of  reason  had  left  his  soul  forever.  Her- 
naldo  Zinna  was  a  maniac  ! 

And  not  the  first  or  the  last  that  has  been  driven  insane 
iy  the  horrors  of  the  church  of  Home ! 


BOOK    FIFTH. 


THE   POISONID   WINE. 

••YES,  the   Cardinal   Corneto  shall   dio   by  poisone 
wine ! " 

The  speaker  was  Alexander  Borgia.  He  was  pacing  to 
and  fro  in  his  apartment,  in  the  centre  of  which,  by  a 
table,  Caesar,  his  son,  was  seated. 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  way  to  remove  him,  and  secure  his 
money ;  the  only  way,"  replied  Caesar.  "  You  see  that  I 
am  prepared  to  follow  it.  Here  's  the  wine,  well  mixed 
with  our  most  deadly  poison,"  and  he  drew  forth  a  black 
earthen  bottle  from  a  secret  drawer  in  the  table,  and  held 
it  up  to  the  light. 

The  liquid  sparkled  strangely,  —  not  more  strangely, 
not  more  brightly,  than  the  dark  eyes  of  the  Pope,  as  he 
muttered, 

"  A  few  drops  of  that  will  remove  Corneto  from  my 
path.  That  he  must  die  is  certain,  even  if  we  did  not 
desire  to  use  his  wealth.  He  is  too  dangerous  to  be  tol- 
erated. Already  has  he  sown  the  seeds  of  sedition 
•gainst  me.  But  let  him  look  well  to  himself.  This 
night  Lucretia  is  to  wed  the  Count  Luanza ;  this  night 
Corneto  will  be  at  the  palace ;  and  I  mistake  myself  very 


144  THE  CRIMES  0* 

much,  if  he  leaves  it  until  he  has  poured  a  goodly  portion 
of  the  poisoned  wine  down  his  throat." 

A  secret  door  at  one  side  of  the  room  had  opened  and 
closed  while  the  Pope  had  been  speaking.  A  head  had 
V<>n  thrust  in,  and  a  pair  of  dark  eyes  marked  the  bottle  of 
wine,  while  quick  ears  had  listened  to  every  word  that 
was  uttered.  And  this  spy  was  Lucretia  Borgia. 

"  But  how  do  you  propose  to  fill  his  glass  from  this 
bottle,  and  avoid  doing  the  same  by  any  of  the  others  ?  " 
asked  Caesar. 

"  That 's  easily  enough  managed.  I  shall  have  a  ser- 
vant in  my  confidence,  who  will  watch  for  and  improve  the 
opportunity  when  the  cardinal  is  deeply  interested  in 
something  that  is  being  done  or  said." 

"  The  plan  is  then  decided  upon.  Let  us  make  the  final 
arrangements,  for  the  hour  appointed  for  the  marriage 
ceremony  and  the  poisoning  of  Corneto  will  soon  arrive." 

"  Agreed !  We  will  see  about  it  at  once.  This  busi- 
ness settled,  I  must  visit  the  Inquisition,  and  see  how  fares 
my  captive,  La  Belle  Floretta."  And  the  Pope,  with  his 
son,  departed  from  the  room. 

It  was  entered  a  moment  later  by  Donna  Lucretia. 
Her  face  was  flushed ;  her  eyes  glittering  in  their  expres- 
sion ;  and  her  features  wore  a  look  of  deadly  resolution. 
She  proceeded  at  once  to  the  drawer  in  which  the  wine 
had  been  left.  She  took  the  bottle  and  secreted  it  in  the 
folds  of  her  dress. 

"  If  there  is  a  heaven,"  she  murmured,  "  let  it  ever  be 
praised  for  the  occurrences  of  this  hour !  They  have 
shown  me  a  method  of  revenge ;  they  have  placed  a  ter- 
rible avengement  at  my  disposal,  and  it  shall  be  mine.  I 
will  take  this  bottle,  and  leave  one  that  does  not  contain 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  145 

poison  in  its  place.  0,  Alexander  Borgia  !  you  may  plot 
against  the  cardinal,  but  I  will  show  you  how  fatally  your 
machinations  will  be  meted  out  to  yourself.  You  will 
meet  Corneto,  eat,  drink,  and  make  merry  with  him, 
and  order  your  servant  to  bring  this  poisoned  wine  for 
him;  but  he  shall  receive  another,  and  this  shall  be 
poured  into  your  own  glass." 

And  thus  were  the  plottings  of  the  Pope  likely  to  be 
counterplotted. 


H. 

THE   MASK   IN   PERIL. 

WE  will  now  enter  the  office  of  the  Inquisition.  Two 
persons  were  seated  therein,  conversing  in  a  low  tone. 
The  entrance  of  Hugi,  the  messenger  of  the  cardinals, 
interrupted  them. 

"  I  bear  you  a  message  from  the  council,"  said  he,  as  he 
placed  a  paper  in  the  hand  of  the  eldest  keeper,  who  was 
evidently  one  of  the  head  officers  of  the  Inquisition. 

The  messenger  then  departed  without  a  reply.  He  well 
knew  that  none  was  needed,  save  in  the  instant  fulfilment 
of  the  orders  he  had  brought. 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  muttered  the  officer,  as  he  cast  his 
eye  over  the  paper.  "  The  council  here  orders  us  to  send  a 
strong  force  to  arrest  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's." 

"  That 's  just  what  I  have  all  along  thought  it  would 
come  to,"  responded  his  companion,  endeavoring  to  look 
philosophical.  "  Villains  are  as  likely  to  fall  out  between 
themselves  as  with  their  pious  neighbors ;  and  I  have  long 
felt  convinced  that  the  mask  was  doing  that  which  would, 
13 

t 


146  THE   CRIMES   OF 

sooner  or  later,  render  him  obnoxious  to  the  council  he  haa 
served  so  many  years." 

"  The  order  speaks  very  explicitly,"  continued  the  other. 
"  We  are  to  arrest  him  and  commit  him  to  a  dungeon  of 
the  Inquisition ;  after  which  we  are  to  await  further  or- 
ders. What  will  those  further  orders  be?  If  I  am  not 
much  mistaken,  he  will  soon^  enjoy  the  death  he  has  meted 
out  to  so  many  others." 

"Things  do  look  rather  ominous,  that's  certain,"  was 
the  reply.  "  But  the  arrest  —  that 's  what  we  are  ordered 
to  consider.  Now  let  me  give  you  a  few  ideas  on  the  sub- 
ject. The  order  tells  us  to  arrest  the  mask  at  his  house. 
But  there  is  a  better  way,  —  we  can  arrest  him  here.  You 
know  that  he  intends  to  visit  one  of  the  prisoners  this 
evening  —  La  Belle  Floretta,  whom  he  was  the  chief  in- 
strument of  bringing  before  the  Inquisition.  He  will 
enter  her  cell ;  he  will  be  alone ;  one  man  against  a  hun- 
dred we  can  bring  against  him.  In  this  way,  as  desperate 
a  man  as  he  is,  we  can  secure  him  without  much  danger 
of  difficulty.  How  do  you  like  my  plan  ?  " 

"  It  is  excellent.     We  will  act  upon  it." 


III. 

ONLY   ANOTHER   VICTIM. 

O,  CHURCH  of  Rome !  Hell  of  religious  bloodhounds ! 
Of  thee  might  Byron  have  written,  "  There  have  been 
tears  and  breaking  hearts  for  thee !  " 

The  scene  !  —  the  scene !  O,  I  am  weary  of  this  mon- 
ster of  cruelty,  this  "  Mother  of  Harlots,"  this  Babel  of 
human  gore,  this  record  of  human  agony !  Weary,  — 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  147 

0,  how  weary  !  But  a  new  phase  must  be  added  to  its 
horrors. 

G-O  with  me.  The  scene  is  a  dungeon,  down  deep  in 
the  shadows  of  the  Inquisition.  There  was  darkness,  and 
chains,  and  iron  grates,  and  massive  stone  walls.  And 
there,  too,  like  an  angel  in  the  lowest  depths  of  hell,  was  a 
woman — was  La  Belle  Floretta!  Gaze  not  upon  her 
with  indifference ;  it  would  peril  a  man's  eternal  salvation 
to  see  her,  and  realize  her  wrongs,  her  agony,  and  not 
swear  an  oath  of  vengeance !  0,  is  it  not  a  sight  to  chill 
the  hardest  heart?  You  see  how  deathly  pale  she  is;  you 
behold  the  long,  bony  fingers  that  are  clutching  at  the  bars 
of  the  cell-door ;  you  mark  the  wildly  dishevelled  hair,  the 
glittering  eyes,  the  look  of  hopeless  misery  that  shrouds 
her  features ;  and  shudder  as  you  think  how  much  she  is 
changed. 

In  the  dungeon  to  which  she  had  been  remanded  from 
the  hall  of  torture  sat  the  poor  girl ;  not  weeping,  not 
praying,  yet  perchance  her  thoughts  were  of  heaven  !  A 
pearly  drop  had  trickled  from  each  eye,  and  now  stood  upon 
her  cheeks,  like  frozen  drops  of  rain  upon  a  marble  image  ; 
but  those  once  glorious  orbs  were  tearless  now.  The  time 
for  tears  had  been,  —  the  time  for  tears  was  past }  Their 
fountain  was  dried  up  forever!  A  feverish  heat  was  in 
her  brain,  and  agony  was  in  her  heart.  She  saw  not  the 
bars  she  had  grasped  so  frenziedly,  —  felt  not  her  chains  ! 

O,  come,  darkest  night !  blow,  fiercest  wind ;  there  is 
one  who  will  heed  ye  not !  The  "  Holy  Catholic  Church  " 
has  nearly  done  its  hellish  work.  It  is  only  one  more  vic- 
tim ;  one  more  added  to  the  list  of  millions ;  one  more 
gentle,  trusting,  almost  angelic  soul,  added  to  the  numbers 


148  THE   CEIMES   OF 

they  have  sent  home  as  witnesses  against  them  to  an  cut- 
raged  God ! 

A  dark  form  appears  at  the  entrance  of  the  maiden's 
cell ;  the  door  is  opened,  and  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's 
enters.  Their  eyes  meet,  —  his  all  burning  with  hate  and 
with  vindictive  passion;  but  she  does  not  start,  does  not 
shudder,  does  not  tremble.  Once  she  would  have  done  so, 
but  that  hour  is  past.  She  does  not  even  express  a  con- 
sciousness of  his  presence.  A  moment  she  stares  vacantly 
upon  him  ;  then  she  looks  towards  heaven,  clasps  her  thin 
hands,  and,  while  her  lips  move  in  prayer,  a  faint  smile 
breaks  over  her  features,  like  sunshine  over  a  waste  of 
stormy  waters. 

0,  what  a  picture !  — what  a  scene  !  and  what  eyes  to 
behold  it !  A  fiend  of  hell  is  gazing  on  an  angel-victim. 

The  mask  moves  forward  and  touches  her  snow-white 
shoulder.  She  looks  up  into  his  face  and  smiles,  —  so 
sweetly,  so  trustingly ;  yet  it  is  the  suiile  of  a  maniac. 

The  eyes  of  the  maiden  are  then  cast  down ;  they  rest 
upon  a  dagger  in  her  visitor's  belt ;  and  strangely  do  they 
sparkle  at  the  sight. 

"  It  is  very  beautiful !  "  she  murmurs.  "  Why  should 
its  power  not  be  employed?  It  can  clear  away  these 
clouds;  it  can  open  the  way  to  heaven." 

Emboldened  by  his  reception,  and  not  realizing  its 
cause,  the  mask  seats  himself  beside  Floretta,  and  passes 
his  arm  around  her  waist.  Again  she  looks  up  into  his 
face  and  smiles.  Her  head  is  resting  upon  his  bosom  ;  her 
features  are  upturned  to  his  own,  and  the  smile  that  rests 
upon  her  lips  seems  —  such  is  the  delusion  of  his  passion 
• —  to  invite  his  kisses.  He  bends  forward,  —  is  about  to 
bestow  these  unholy  evidences  of  the  feelings  that  are 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  149 

reigning  in  his  heart,  when  he  feels  the  dagger  drawn  with 
a  quick  but  steady  hand  from  his  belt. 

"  Woman  !  —  Floretta  !  "  he  cries,  starting  back,  with 
terror  depicted  upon  his  countenance,  and  fearing  some 
personal  violence. 

But  he  need  not  start,  —  need  not  fear  for  his  safety. 
Floretta  has  indeed  secured  the  weapon ;  but  not  to 
injure  or  even  menace  its  owner.  She  smiles  again,  as  she 
presses  the  bright  blade  to  her  lips,  and  looks  more  trust- 
ingly, more  hopefully,  towards  heaven.  There  's  not  a  flush 
upon  her  cheeks, —  not  a  breath  of  excitement  in  her  looks 
or  movements ;  an  expression  of  unwavering  resolution, 
strange,  unnatural  calmness,  and  the  placing  of  the  dag- 
ger's point  against  her  breast,  are  all  the  signs  that  evince 
her  deadly  purpose.  Again  she  kisses  the  dagger,  smiles 
and  looks  prayerfully  upwards,  then  murmurs,  "  Father, 
Ilernaldo,  I  come !  "  and  drives  the  weapon  home  to  the 
hilt  in  her  snow-white  bosom. 

The  warm  life-blood  of  his  victim  spirts  freely  forth, 
drenching  the  garments  of  the  mask,  and  almost  blinding 
him  ;  then  he  shudders,  then  utters  a  cry  of  terror,  for  he 
is  gazing  upon  the  ghastly  features  of  the  dead. 

But  it  is  not  long  that  he  gives  way  to  these  emotions  ; 
his  stern  nature  soon  resumes  its  sway ;  and,  as  he  pro- 
ceeds to  wipe  the  stains  from  his  cloak,  he  spurns  the 
body  with  his  foot,  and  mutters, 

"  It 's  only  another  victim !  " 
13* 


150  THE   CRIMES   OF 

IV. 

THE   MASK   ARRESTED. 

THE  mask  then  stooped  down  and  picked  up  the  dagger 
that  had  consummated  the  fatal  deed  —  wiped  off  the  blood 
that  had  dimmed  its  lustre,  and  placed  it  in  its  sheath.  As 
he  turned  away,  a  number  of  armed  soldiers,  under  the 
command  of  one  of  the  Inquisitor-generals,  appeared  be- 
fore the  door  of  the  dungeon.  They  gazed  in  upon  him, 
and  he,  in  turn,  looked  to  them  for  an  explanation  of  their 
sudden  appearance.  It  was  soon  given. 

"  Mask  of  St.  Peter's,"  said  the  Inquisitor,  in  a  stern 
and  commanding  voice,  "  I  arrest  you  in  the  name  of  the 
Holy  Inquisition !  " 

The  mask  could  scarcely  credit  his  senses,  but  the  truth 
soon  burst  upon  him  in  all  its  vivid  reality.  He  saw  that 
he  was  caught  in  a  trap  from  which  there  was  but  little 
possibility  of  escape.  He  glanced  hastily  around,  and 
darted  this  way  and  that,  in  the  hope  of  discovering  some 
outlet  by  which  he  could  fly ;  but  he  soon  saw  that  his 
efforts  were  all  fruitless.  As  a  last  resort,  he  drew  his 
bloody  weapon,  placed  himself  upon  the  defensive,  and 
replied : 

"  I  know  not  your  authority,  nor  your  means  for  execut- 
ing it ;  but  this  I  do  know,  —  the  first  man  that  approaches 
me,  or  attempts  to  use  violence,  shall  die  \" 

The  Inquisitor  seemed  to  have  expected  such  a  reply, 
and  to  have  prepared  for  it ;  for  he  simply  waved  his  hand 
to  his  followers,  and  they  filed  into  the  cell,  holding  their 
drawn  swords  guardedly  before  them.  The  mask  was  com- 
pletely surrounded  —  hemmed  in  on  all  sides. 


ALEXANDER    BORGIA.  151 

"  You  see  how  vain  resistance  will  be,"  said  the  In- 
quisitor, with  a  quiet  smile.  "  We  have  come  prepared  ! 
You  know  who  I  am,  and  from  whence  my  orders  come  ; 
and  you  very  well  know  that  I  have  but  to  say  the  word, 
and  these  men  will  cut  you  to  pieces  in  a  moment.  That 
word  will  be  given,  and  quickly,  too,  unless  you  surrender 
at  once !  " 

The  mask  knew  that  the  resolution  of  the  officer  could 
not  be  shaken  or  disregarded.  With  a  curse  upon  his  lips, 
he  dashed  his  dagger  to  the  floor,  and  gave  himself  up  to 
the  hands  that  were  ready  to  pinion  him,  and  bear  him 
before  the  council  of  cardinals. 


V. 

THE   DENOUEMENT. 

HALF  an  hour  later.  The  mask  of  St.  Peter's  was 
standing  in  the  midst  of  the  council  of  cardinals.  Corneto 
was  there,  stern,  and  determined  on  the  death  of  the  man 
who  bad  shown  how  dangerous  he  was  —  how  deadly  he 
might  be.  Each  and  all  were  unanimous  ;  the  mask  was 
condemned  to  be  broken  alive  on  the  wheel. 

After  receiving  his  sentence,  he  was  asked  if  he  had 
anything  to  say  in  reference  to  his  crimes  or  his  fate. 

"  A  few  words  ;  a  few  words  only,"  and  the  expression 
of  his  dark  eyes  became  more  malignant  as  he  spoke.  "  I 
have  listened  to  your  deliberations ;  not  with  fear,  for  I 
tell  you  plainly,  my  lord  cardinals,  that  the  time  has  not 
come,  never  will  come,  when  either  of  you  will  have 
authority  for  harming  a  hair  of  my  head !  " 

A  sullen  gleam  was  in  his  eyes,  as  he  folded  his  arms 


152  THE   CRIMES   OF 

upon  his  breast  and  gazed  calmly  around  him,  to  mark  the 
effect  of  his  words. 

"  I  see  you  are  surprised,"  he  continued,  "  but  you 
need  not  long  remain  in  doubt  as  to  whether  my  words  are 
true  or  not.  I  stand  here  condemned,  and  it  now  becomes 
me  to  speak.  You  shall  know  what  I  know  ;  that  ye  have 
been  dupes,  fools,  slaves  of  an  indomitable  will,  that  none 
of  you  possess  or  can  understand.  I  will  show  you  how 
you  have  been  ruled  ;  how  you  have  been  made  mere  tools 
in  the  hands  of  your  master  !  " 

"  We  will  not  listen  to  your  vain  boastings,"  said  Cor- 
neto,  sternly.  "  You  have  been  found  guilty  and  con- 
demned, and  shall  die  within  the  hour.  If  you  have  any 
last  requests  to  make,  now  is  your  time  to  speak  !  " 

The  mask  uttered  a  hoarse  laugh,  that  expressed  the 
most  insulting  contempt. 

"  It  is  strange,"  observed  Corneto,  with  a  puzzled  ex- 
pression of  countenance,  and  speaking  to  a  companion  — 
"  very  strange  that  a  man  who  knows  certain  death  is  to 
soon  be  his  lot  can  be  so  indifferent  to  it.  How  deeply 
sunken  in  crime  must  this  man  be,  how  dead  to  all  the 
common  feelings  of  humanity,  when  he  can  stand  here,  in 
the  presence  of  our  august  council,  and  laugh  at  us  as  we 
pronounce  his  doom  !  " 

"  But  you  should  not  wonder  at  his  conduct,"  was  the 
reply.  "  He  has  become  perfectly  hardened.  There  is 
scarce  a  particle  of  human  feeling  in  his  heart.  Think 
how  many  assassinations  he  has  committed  —  how  long  he 
has  gone  on  in  his  career  of  crime  and  bloodshed.  Think 
of  those  he  has  murdered,  —  Delano,  La  Belle  Floretta, 
Montelli  —  " 

"  Yes,  think  of  Montelli  !  "  interrupted  the  mask,  as  he 


ALBXANDKE  BOKOIA.  153 

darted  forward  and  seized  the  speaker  by  the  arm,  and 
bent  his  flashing  eyes  upon  his  features.  "  Think  of  Mon- 
telli,  the  doom  of  the  traitor,  and  tremble !  I  slew  him  ;  I 
have  slain  others  who  have  plotted  against  me ;  and  you 
may  each  and  all  have  an  example  of  my  power  before  we 
have  parted  company.  Bethink  ye,  my  lord  cardinals, 
how  long  is  it  since  you  were  plotting  in  secret  conclave 
against  the  Pope  ?  How  long  since  you  determined  to 
establish  a  system  of  espionage  over  him  ?  Ha,  ha  !  "  and 
the  mask  laughed  gleefully.  "  Ye  should  all  be  careful 
what  you  do,  for  you  are  as  open  books  to  Alexander 
Borgia  ! " 

"  Away  with  him  !  "  shouted  Corneto,  fiercely.  "  Listen 
no  longer  to  his  ravings.  Away  to  the  wheel !  " 

The  officers  darted  towards  their  intended  victim. 
Swords  gleamed  around  him  ;  again  he  seemed  about  to  be 
taken  prisoner,  when  he  stamped  his  foot  heavily  upon  the 
floor  ;  many  a  door  around  him  was  opened,  and  many  au 
armed  soldier  entered  and  rallied  before  and  behind  him ! 

"  Back,  every  one  of  ye !  "  exclaimed  the  mask,  to  the 
cardinals  and  their  followers ;  "  back,  if  you  value  your 
lives  !  Mark  me  well ;  behold  my  men  ;  and  know  that  I 
am  master  still !  " 

"  And  who,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,"  cried  the  aston- 
ished Corneto  —  "  who  is  the  mask  of  St.  Peter's  ?  " 

The  black  mask  was  torn  from  the  features  it  had  so 
long  concealed;  the  cloak  dropped  from  his  form;  and 
as  every  eye  was  fixed  upon  the  face  revealed,  the  lips  of 
each  exclaimed : 

"  T  is  Alexander  Borgia  !  "  • 


154  THE   CRIMES   OF 


VI. 

A   CATHOLIC     PRIEST   ON   CELIBACY   AND    AURICULAR   CONFES- 
SION. 

FATHER  JANZEN  again  stood  in  the  presence  of  Count 
Luanza. 

"  Well,"  said  the  latter,  moodily,  "  I  do  not  see  as  we 
are  likely  to  gain  possession  of  Donna  Lucretia's  secret. 
Twice  have  you  called  upon  her  at  her  residence  —  twice 
have  I  secreted  myself  to  listen  to  the  expected  revela- 
tions ;  but  not  a  word  has  she  uttered  towards  the  eluci- 
dation of  the  mystery.  How  unfortunate  it  is  that  she 
does  not  have  a  father-confessor  !  " 

"  Do  you,  then,  look  upon  auricular  confession  as  a 
blessing?  "  asked  Father  Janzen,  quietly. 

"  Most  certainly." 

The  priest  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  uttered  a  dry, 
mocking  laugh. 

"  Count  Luanza,"  said,  he,  in  reply,  "  you  have  made 
me  a  particular  friend  of  yours,  and  I  shall  so  far  presume 
upon  this  fact  as  to  have  a  little  plain  conversation  with 
you  on  the  system  of  auricular  confession  ;  premising,  at 
the  start,  that  I  believe  it  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  so- 
cial and  moral  evils  there  is  in  existence  !  " 

"  What  do  I  hear  ?  "  cried  the  astonished  count.  "  You 
—  you,  a  father-confessor,  speaking  ill  of  the  confes- 
sional !  " 

"  I  can  do  no  less,  after  having  had  such  opportunities 
of  witnessing*hs  efiects.  My  very  position  has  given  me 
cause  for  hating  and  detesting  it.  If  you  would  know  a 


ALEXANDER  BOKGIA.  155 

few  of  the  peculiarities  of  this  institution,  allow  me  the 
pleasure  of  pointing  them  out  to  you. 

"  1st.  The  Father -confessor.  —  He  is  forbidden  to 
marry,  under  the  pain  of  excommunication.  As  a  general 
thing,  he  is  a  robust,  passionate  man,  with  an  eye  to  ad- 
mire beauty,  and  is  possessed  of  all  the  desires  that  are 
inherent  to  man's  nature.  He  has  taken  a  solemn  vow 
of  celibacy;  but  is  he  less  a  man  —  less  susceptible  to  the 
influences  of  beautiful  women  ?  For  my  part,  I  can  im- 
agine no  greater  hell  than  the  life  of  a  man  doomed  to 
perpetual  celibacy,  if  he  must  still  endure  the  temptations 
that  arouse  the  desires,  the  longings,  the  feelings  of  admi- 
ration, which  the  sexes  are  forced  to  bear  each  other  by 
the  first,  the  fundamental  principle  of  human  nature. 
Such  a  life  must  be  to  the  possessor  like  the  existence  of 
the  sinner  in  the  flames  of  hell,  who  lifted  up  his  eyes  and 
saw  Lazarus  afar  off,  in  Abraham's  bosom.  He  is  daily 
tempted  to  pluck  forbidden  fruit.  Many  of  those  who  con- 
fess to  him  are  young,  lovely,  and  fascinating.  He  sees 
them  kneeling  before  him  ;  he  hears  them  pour  forth  their 
little  weaknesses,  their  hopes,  their  fears,  their  desires,  or 
the  foibles  of  which  they  have  been  guilty;  and  aH  this 
is  often  told  to  a  young  priest,  who  is  not  more  than  five- 
and-twenty.  He  beholds  their  voluptuous  forms,  their 
swelling  bosoms,  their  half-inviting  blushes,  their  gentle 
smiles,  and  looks  of  trusting  innocence.  He  feels  the  soft 
breath  of  a  lovely  young  being  of  seventeen  summers  on 
his  cheek ;  he  gazes  into  her  eyes ;  he  reads  her  very 
soul ;  and  can  he  withstand  all  these  appeals  and  invita- 
tions for  nature  to  assume  its  sway?  Ne^aa,  never!  I 
tell  you  that  there  is  no  man  living  who  could  be  subjected 
to  the  temptations  of  the  confessional,  for  a  period  of 


156  THE   CRIMES   OF 

years,  and  not  yield.  Any  priest  who  should  attempt 
fidelity  to  his  vow  of  celibacy  would  be  in  the  same  posi- 
tion mentally  that  a  man  is  bodily  on  the  rack.  The  more 
beauteous  his  penitents,  the  greater  would  be  his  proclivity 
to  sin.  His  mind  would  be  in  a  continual  war  between  a 
temptation  to  partake  of  the  pleasures  that  invited  him 
and  a  resolution  to  abstain.  He  would  be  tortured  by  • 
both  in  concert.  He  would  become  restless  and  nervous ; 
and  in  time,  if  this  inhuman  war  was  persisted  in,  he 
would  become  a  monomaniac  or  a  madman.  No  less  re- 
sults could  be  expected  from  such  an  outrage  on  nature  as 
a  life  of  celibacy.  Such  a  life  is  antagonistical  to  the 
very  commands  of  the  Bible;  and  if  you  question  the 
morality  of  this  principle,  you  question  alike  the  wisdom 
and  morality  of  God  ! 

"  2nd.  The  Penitent.  —  As  is  very  often  the  case,  the 
penitent  is  a  young  and  beautiful  woman.  Accustomed 
from  childhood  to  the  occasional  society  of  the  confessor, 
and  taught  to  believe  him  the  holiest  and  most  worthy  of 
men,  her  feelings  cling  to  him  as  naturally  as  the  young 
ivy  to  the  oak  that  has  sheltered  it  from  the  blasts.  She 
does  not  believe  it  possible  for  him  to  sin,  but  has  implicit 
faith  in  his  power  to  pardon  every  sin  she  may  commit. 
"When  she  first  seeks  him  in  the  confessional,  she  looks  up 
to  him  as  something  more  than  man. .  She  has  no  secrets 
that  are  not  revealed  to  him.  He  knows  her  heart,  her 
nature,  better  than  she  knows  it  herself.  He  has  her  com- 
plete confidence,  and  often  no  small  share  of  her  love. 
Insensibly  to  herself,  she  is  moulded  to  his  wishes.  The 
very  questions  he  asks  her  in  the  confessional  are  such  as 
most  readily  poison  the  mind  of  a  young  lady.  Under  tlfe 
pretence  of  satisfying  himself  that  she  is  innocent,  he 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  157 

makes  inquiries  that  are  of  themselves  enough  to  lead  her 
into  guilt.  Her  heart  is  filled  with  new  and  exciting 
emotions ;  and  though  her  womanly  pride  and  self-com- 
mand may  prevent  her  from  giving  way  to  her  flwn  incli- 
nation, she  is  readily  won  by  a  request  from  her  confessor, 
and  the  assurance  that  compliance  with  his  wishes  is  not  a 
sin. 

"  3.  The  Security  of  the  Confessional. — No  believer  in 
the  Catholic  faith  would  cross  a  threshold,  knowing  that  a 
priest  was  confessing  a  lady  within.  Such  a  proceeding 
would  be  deemed  sacrilege,  or  something  worse.  If  a 
woman  is  sick,  and  the  priest  calls  upon  her  to  receive  her 
confession,  he  has  but  to  leave  bis  sandals  before  the  door 
of  her  chamber,  and  even  her  husband  dare  not  open  it  while 
the  holy  padre  is  engaged  with  the  wife.  In  the  confes- 
sional there  is  the  utmost  security,  —  not  for  female  pur- 
ity, but  for  its  destruction.  Everything  there  is  made  sub- 
servient to  the  wishes  of  the  confessor  ;  and  when  you  have 
viewed  the  subject  in  its  true  light,  you  will  be  convinced 
that  confessionals  might  justly  be  designated  as  a  species 
of  houses  of  ill-fame,  for  the  special  accommodation  of 
saintly  libertines,  yclept  Catholic  priests  !  f 

"  Such  are  a  few  of  the  facts  in  reference  to  celibacy 
and  auricular  confessions !  " 

"  Perhaps  it  is  better,  then,  that  Donna  Lucretia  does 
not  attend  the  confessional,"  muttered  the  count,  musingly. 

"  Far  better,  I  assure  you.  If  you  would  know  what 
influence  a  priest  possesses  over  a  penitent,  listen  to  me. 
Not  long  since,  a  young  lady,  who  had  always  been  gay 
and  sprightly,  became  subject  to  strange  fits  of  melancholy, 
by  which  she  was  so  much  affected  that  all  of  her  friends 
were  seriously  alarmed  for  her  health  and  happiness  —  " 
14 


158  THE   CRIMES   OF 

"  From  your  description,  one  might  readily  imagine  that 
the  lady  was  Donna  Lucretia  !  But  go  on  !  " 

"  The  lady  was  engaged  to  be  married  to  a  wealthy 
count,  wMl  was  rendered  very  sensitive  by  the  peculiar- 
ities of  his  betrothed.  He  could  not  believe  her  really 
guilty  ;  but  he  felt  as  if  he  would  give  half  of  his  fortune 
to  know  who  and  what  he  was  about  to  marry." 

"  Exactly  my  case  in  reference  to  Lucretia  !  "  muttered 
Count  Luanza. 

"Under  the  influences  of  these  feelings,  the  count 
determined  to  gain  possession  of  the  fair  one's  secret,  if 
there  was  any  possibility  of  doing  so.  With  this  inten- 
tion, he  employed  a  father-confessor  to  visit  the  lady,  hop- 
ing that  he  would  be  instrumental  in  wringing  the  desired 
information  from  her  —  " 

"  By  heavens  !  those  parties  were  Donna  Lucretia  and 
yourself!  —  that  is,  they  might  have  been.  But  proceed." 

"  There  were  some  secret  motives,  however,  in  the  con- 
duct of  the  priest,  which  the  jealous  lover  did  not  under- 
stand. It  so  happened  that  the  confessor  who  was 
employed  to  gain  possession  of  the  lady's  secret  had  long 
looked  upon  this  same  lady  with  feelings  of  the  most 
intense  and  burning  passion !  He  had  seen  so  much  of 
her  beauty  and  grace,  that  his  admiration  ripened  into 
love.  He  loved  her  as  devotedly,  my  lord  count,  as  ever 
you  could  have  done.  Loved  —  but  how  vainly,  hopelessly, 
despairingly !  His  very  profession  prevented  him  from 
revealing  the  thoughts  that  were  consuming  him.  What 
could  he  do?  Where  could  he  look  for  relief?  The' 
more  he  beheld  the  object  of  his  passion,  the  stronger  did 
it  become.  He  felt  that  he  was  treading  on  the  verge  of 
a  frightful  abyss ;  but  he  could  not  pause.  He  was  driven 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  159 

on  by  all  that  could  drive  a  man  to  perdition, — unrequited 
love.  He  knew  that  the  lady  would  scorn  him  from  her 
presence,  if  he  dared  to  reveal  his  passion  ;  he  felt  assured 
that  the  count  would  deem  him  traitorous,  and  a  "betrayer 
of  the  trust  reposed  in  him ;  but  he  was  in  a  position 
where  death  itself  could  not  have  forced  him  to  pause. 
All  barriers  were  broken  down,  all  reserve  was  thrown 
aside,  and  that  gray-haired  priest  sank  down  upon  his 
knees  before  the  one  he  loved  so  hopelessly,  and  confessed 
the  passion  that  had  made  his  life  a  hell !  " 

The  Count  Luanza  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  seized  the 
confessor  fiercely  by  the  throat,  while  he  exclaimed, 

"  And  you  —  you  were  that  dog  of  a  confessor,  traitor 
and  renegade  ;  and  she,  the  object  of  your  unholy  passion, 
was  Lucretia  Borgia  !  " 

"  You  mistake  my  meaning,"  gasped  Father  Janzen. 
"  I  was  only  speaking  of  a  circumstance  that  had  come  to 
my  knowledge." 

"  Forgive  me,"  said  the  count,  releasing  his  hold. 
"  This  jealousy  has  set  me  beside  myself.  I  hardly  know 
where  I  am,  or  what  I  am  about.  My  brain  grows  dizzy, 
—  I  am  sick  at  heart.  I  will  seek  the  open  air,  until  I 
have  recovered  from  this  sudden  indisposition  !  "  and,  as 
he  spoke,  he  quickly  passed  from  the  apartment. 

The  priest  gazed  after  him  with  a  look  of  almost  infer- 
nal subtlety  and  exultation,  as  he  muttered, 

"  How  easy  it  is  for  one  who  is  master  of  his  own  mind 
to  play  upon  the  feelings  of  others !  A  few  words  of  mine 
have  brought  the  count  under  the  influence  of  feelings  he 
will  not  be  able  to  banish  to-night.  But,  let  me  see ;  the 
hour  has  arrived  in  which  I  am  to  meet  Donna  Lucretia. 
I  must  away  to  the  confessional !  " 


160  THE   CRIMES   OP 

VII. 

THE   TEMPTATION    AND   FALL. 

STILL  stranger  than  the  concluding  words  of  the  priest 
was  the  fact  that  in  ten  minutes  from  the  moment  of  their 
utterance  he  stood  in  the  confessional  of  the  church  of 
San  Benito. 

"  It  is  strange  how  deeply  I  love  that  woman,"  he 
soliloquized,  as  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair.  "  The 
feelings  I  bear  her  have  been  so  restricted,  so  influenced 
by  circumstances,  that  they  rule  me  with  all  the  power  of 
a  monomania.  But,  hist !  Agreeably  to  her  promise,  the 
lady  is  here !  " 

As  he  ceased  speaking,  Lucretia  Borgia  crossed  the 
threshold  of  the  confessional.  There  was  an  anxious  look 
upon  her  features,  —  one  that  gave  them  an  almost  stern 
expression. 

"  Father  Janzen,"  said  she,  as  she  seated  herself  beside 
him,  "  you  doubtless  know  that  the  purpose  of  this  visit  is 
to  speak  of  your  love." 

"  Then  I  shall  be  so  happy  !  "  murmured  Father  Janzen, 
as  a  flush  swept  over  his  features.  The  dark  eyes  of  his 
visitor  were  instantly  bent  upon  him. 

"  Father  Janzen,"  she  observed,  with  a  strange  sternness 
of  manner,  "  have  I  not  told  you  that  these  expressions  of 
your  passion  are  disagreeable  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  know  it,  I  know  it,"  replied  the  wretched  man,  with 
a  look  of  hopeless  despair  and  misery ;  "  but  how  can  I 
command  myself  when  in  your  presence  ?  How  can  I 
gaze  upon  your  beauteous  features,  your  sparkling  eyes, 
your  lovely  form,  and  not  feel  swayed  by  the  power  of  the 
passion  that  has  taken  complete  possession  of  my  heart  ?  " 


ALEXANDER    BORGIA.  161 

"  Are  you  sure  that  you  love  me  so  deeply,  so  devot- 
edly ?  "  asked  Donna  Lucretia,  as  a  singular  smile  passed 
over  her  face. 

"  Love  ?  Lady,  priest  though  I  am,  anchorite  though 
I  should  be,  I  love  you  better  than  I  do  my  God  !  There 
is  nothing  I  would  not  do  to  prove  my  affection  —  " 

The  hand  of  the  lady  was  on  his  arm ;  her  eyes  were 
bent  sternly  on  his  own,  as  she  repeated,  inquiringly, 

"  Nothing  ?  " 

"  Again  I  affirm  it !  For  thee  I  would  forego  the  joys 
of  the  brightest  heaven  mortal  ever  dreamed  of,  —  for 
thee  I  would  consign  myself  to  an  eternal  hell !  0,  lady, 
you  do  not  know  how  deeply  every  thought  and  faculty  of 
my  soul  is  swayed  by  the  love  I  bear  you  !  " 

"  And  you  will  obey  my  greatest  request ;  you  will 
fulfil  the  most  difficult  conditions  I  can  propose  to  you,  as 
the  price  of  the  love  and  the  pleasures  you  would  enjoy 
with  me  ?  " 

"  I  will !  " 

"  Dare  you  swear  it?  " 

"  By  the  sacredness  of  all  things  pure  and  holy,  I  swear 
to  do  your  bidding !  But  let  the  pledge  be  mutual. 
Swear  to  me  that  if  I  obey  you  in  all  things  you  will  be 
wholly  mine ! " 

And  quickly,  sternly  came  the  reply, 

"  By  all  I  have  lost,  and  by  all  the  revenge  I  hope  for, 
I  swear  to  be  yours,  yours  alone,  and  wholly  yours,  body 
and  soul,  now  and  forever  !  " 

The  priest  clasped  her  in  his  arms  as  she  spoke,  his 
eyes  meeting  her  own  with  a  look  of  burning  passion. 

"  A  kiss,"  he  cried,  "  a  kiss  to  seal  our  agreement !  " 

"  Here  it  is,  —  another,  —  ay,  a  dozen,"  was  the  reply 


162  THE   CRIMES   OF 

of  the  woman,  as  she  kissed  him  with  a  strange  fervency 
of  manner,  again  and  again. 

"  There  is  nothing  I  will  not  do  for  thee,  if  you  will 
only  do  my  bidding  !  " 

"  Speak,  command  me  as  you  will.  I  am  ready  to 
obey ! " 

"  Then,  attend  my  wedding  at  the  palace  of  the  Bor- 
gias  !  "  exclaimed  the  excited  woman,  as  a  gleam  of  infer- 
nal exultation  appeared  in  her  eyes.  "  Go  at  once  !  You 
have  said  that  you  would  obey  rny  commands,  —  I  have 
but  one  command  to  give  ;  and  that  is,  attend  this  wed- 
ding, join  in  the  revelry,  drink  and  make  merry  with  the 
other  guests,  and  poison  Alexander  Borgia  !  "  , 

The  priest  started  as  if  he  had  trodden  on  a  deadly 
reptile. 

"  Poison  the  Pope  !  "  he  gasped.  "  It  is  asking  too 
much  of  me  !  " 

"  But  think  of  your  love,  —  your  promise.  You  have 
sworn  to  obey  my  orders.  Break  not  that  oath,  as  you 
hope  for  happiness  here  or  hereafter  !  " 

"  It  is  too  fearful,  too  dangerous  a  deed  —  " 

"  Think  of  her  whom  you  will  serve  ;  think  of  the  arms 
that  are  now  thrown  around  your  neck  ;  think  of  the  kisses 
that  are  now  rained  in  showers  on  your  cheeks ;  think  of 
the  joys  unutterable  that  await  you  in  my  warm  embrace, 
and  dare  and  do!" 

"  No  more,  no  more  !  "  cried  the  passion-tortured  con- 
fessor, as  he  strained  the  temptress  to  his  heart.  "  My 
word  is  pledged,  —  it  shall  not  be  broken.  Show  me  the 
means,  —  point  out  the  course  I  am  to  take  ;  I  'II  do  the 
deed!" 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  163 

vni. 

THE   MARRIAGE. 

FROM  the  arms  of  Father  Janzen  to  the  bridal  altar,  — 
it  was  a  fitting  change  for  Lucretia  Borgia  ! 

The  palace  of  the  Borgias  was  brilliantly  lighted. 
Thrilling  strains  of  music,  merry  voices,  silvery  laughter, 
and  sparkling  jests,  were  all  commingled  in  the  richly-per- 
fumed halls.  The  gorgeous  parlors  were  thronged  with 
guests,  —  among  them  Corneto  and  the  cardinals,  and 
many  of  the  other  dignitaries  of  the  church. 

The  hour  for  the  performance  of  the  marriage  ceremony 
had  arrived.  All  present  were  eager  to  witness  it,  for 
they  knew  it  was  no  common  occurrence  that  had  thus 
called  them  together,  and  as  well  knew  that  it  would  be 
succeeded  by  no  common  revel. 

The  Pope  was  there,  clad  in  his  richest  robes,  and  sur- 
rounded by  his  friends.  He  had  given  orders  for  the  most 
extensive  preparations  for  the  supper.  Most  of  the  deli- 
cacies of  the  land  and  the  sea  were  to  be  served  up  in  the 
choicest  style  of  the  culinary  art,  and  with  an  accompani- 
ment of  the  richest  wines  and  liquors  the  Old  World  could 
produce.  As  was  usual  on  such  occasions,  it  was  Borgia's 
intention,  and  the  entertainment  was  so  understood  by 
most  of  the  guests,  that  the  proceedings  of  the  evening 
should  be  concluded  by  a  perfect  pandemonium  of  the 
most  reckless  licentiousness  and  beastly  debauchery  ;  arid 
heuce  they  were  not  surprised  to  see  that  a  large  number 
of  the  most  beautiful  courtesans  of  Home  had  been  invited, 
and  were  present,  freely  mingling  with  the  richest  and 
most  respectable  ladies  in  the  land,  —  for  such  was  one  of 
the  characteristics  of  the  age  of  the  Borgias.  They  were 


164  THE   CRIMES   OF 

dressed  in  a  manner  that  was  calculated  to  heighten  the 
fascinations  of  their  persons,  and  many  an  admiring  glance 
and  many  a  whisper  of  commendation  was  bestowed  upon 
them  by  the  saintly  fathers  of  the  church  who  had  honored 
the  occasion  with  their  presence. 

We  shall  not  speak  at  length  of  the  marriage  ceremony, 
—  how  Donna  Lucretia  stood  before  the  priest,  pale  and 
anxious,  while  he  pronounced  the  words  that  made  her  the 
wife  of  Count  Luanza.  We  shall  not  pause  upon  her 
appearance,  or  the  thoughts  that  reigned  in  her  heart,  — 
nor  shall  we  dwell  upon  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  count 
himself,  as  he  uttered  the  vows  that  made  him  the  husband 
of  Lucretia  Borgia.  We  leave  all  this  to  the  imagination 
of  the  reader,  —  pass  over  the  greetings  and  congratula- 
tions that  succeeded  the  announcement  of  their  being  man 
and  wife,  and  change  the  scene  to  the  supper-table  of  the 
bridal  party. 


IX. 

THE   POISON. 

"  FILL  up,  fill  to  the  brim  !  "  cried  Alexander  Borgia, 
in  his  happiest  voice,  from  the  head  of  the  table  that  stood 
in  the  centre  of  the  magnificent  dining-hall.  "  Let  pleas- 
ure reign  in  every  heart,  and  the  sparkling  wine  go 
round." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  responded  Corneto,  who  was  seated  by  the 
side  of  the  Pope,  and  whose  glass  had  already  been  several 
times  filled  and  drained.  "  Behold  the  rich  color  of  our 
wine,  the  beauty  of  our  many  charmers,  and  let  the  sight 
be  as  an  exorcist  for  every  ill  the  human  mind  can  feel." 


ALEXANDER   BOROIA.  165 

"  Right,  Cardinal  Corneto,"  rejoined  Borgia,  as  he  filled 
his  glass.  "  I  '11  pledge  you  for  that  sentiment ;  "  and,  after 
touching  glasses,  both  drank. 

"  It  is  nearly  time  to  administer  the  poison,"  added  the 
Pope,  sotto  coce,  as  he  observed  the  flush  upon  the  cardi- 
nal's features.  "  But,  first  —  more  wine  — •  more  excite- 
ment! What,  ho!  Prato,  bring  more  wine  —  the  wine  !  " 

The  servant  understood  the  significant  look  with  which 
the  words  were  accompanied.  In  a  moment,  the  bottlo 
of  wine  which  was  supposed  by  Borgia  to  contain  poison 
was  placed  in  his  hand. 

"  Here,  Corneto ;  here  is  wine  of  a  glorious  brand," 
said  the  Pope,  "  the  quality  of  which  we  will  discuss 
together.  Fill  the  cardinal's  glass,  Prato;  fill  to  the 
brim." 

The  order  was  obeyed.     The  servant  filled  Corneto's 
glass  from  the  wine  that  was  supposed  to  be  poisoned,  then     N .-,.- 
dexterously  set  the  bottle  aside,  and  filled  his  master's 
glass  from  one  that  resembled  it. 

"  Your  health,"  cried  the  Pope,  and  the  glasses  were 
drained. 

"  Ha,  ha !  "  laughed  Borgia,  as  he  started  to  his  feet, 
"  I  have  him  in  my  toils." 

"  What !  does  your  eminence  leave  us  so  suddenly  ?  " 
asked  Father  Janzen.  "  Will  you  not  pledge  me  in  a 
single  glass  before  you  go  ?  "  « 

"  Willingly  !  "  was  the  reply,  as  the  Pope  again  took 
his  seat  at  the  table.  "  Name  the  wine  you  will  drink  ; 
I  will  join  you." 

The  priest  nodded  to  a  servant  whom  he  had  employed 
and  instmcted  to  wait  upon  him  on  this  occasion.  That 


166  THE  CRIMES  OF 

personage  immediately  produced  a  bottle  of  wine  bearing 
an  antique  seal,  drew  the  cork,  and  poured  out  two  glasses. 

"  You  are  sure  that  it  does  not  contain  poison  ?  "  observed 
Borgia,  with  a  careless  laugh.  . 

"  So  sure,  that  I  am  not  afraid  of  it  myself,"  replied 
the  priest,  as  he  glanced  a  short  distance  down  the  table, 
and  exchanged  a  significant  look  with  Donna  Lucretia. 

"  Then,  here  goes  !  "  The  parties  touched  glasses,  and 
the  Pope  drained  the  one  he  held  at  a  single  draught ;  but 
Father  Janzen  shuddered  as  the  wine  touched  his  lips. 
And  well  he  might ;  he  knew  that  it  contained  a  deadly 
poison. 

"  Why  do  you  wait?  "  muttered  the  Pope,  suspiciously. 
"  You  start  as  if  it  were  a  potion  of  poison  instead  of 
rich  and  rosy  wine." 

"  Do  I  ?  "  said  the  priest.  A  glance  from  Donna  Lu- 
cretia assured  him.  He  saw  her  clutch  a  small  vial  be- 
tween her  fingers,  beheld  her  lips  move,  and  fancied  that 
he  heard  them  whisper,  in  a  voice  that  seemed  unearthly, 
it  was  so  low  and  ominous, 

«  The  antidote  !  " 

"  Ay,  the  antidote ;  that  will  save  me,"  was  the  thought 
that  took  possession  of  his  heart ;  and  he  drained  his 
glass. 

At  this  moment  sounds  of  confusion  were  heard  at  the 
door  of  the  hall.  A  person  was  endeavoring  to  effect  his 
entrance ;  the  servants  were  endeavoring  to  oppose  him. 
But  the  intruder  was  not  to  be  stayed ;  his  strong  arms 
hurled  all  aside  who  ventured  to  stand  in  his  path ;  and, 
a  moment  later,  Borgia  started  to  his  feet,  uttering  a  cry 
of  alarm,  and  unsheathing  a  sword  he  wore. 

For  Hernaldo  Zinna  stood  before  him  ! 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  167 


X. 

THE  MADMAN'S  MYSTERY. 

HERNALDO  ZINNA,  the  madman  ! 

Well  might  the  Pope  shudder  at  beholding  his  victim, 
for  he  presented  a  terrible  appearance.  His  features  were 
pale  and  haggard,  and  rendered  still  more  wild  in  their 
expression  by  the  long,  dark  hair  that  was  matted  around 
them  in  repulsive  disorder.  His  eyes  gleamed  restlessly 
in  their  sockets,  like  beacon-lights  swinging  to  and  fro  in 
gloomy  caverns ;  and  they  were  now  fixed  earnestly  upon 
the  face  of  Borgia,  while  a  smile  of  exultation  flitted  over 
the  countenance  of  their  possessor. 

"  Pope  of  Rome,"  said  Zinna,  "I  have  come  to  tell  ye 
that  I  am  fearfully  avenged!  I  have  come  to  tell  ye 
that  ye  are  standing  on  the  verge  of  a  mighty  cataract, 
from  the  brow  of  which  the  waters  of  life  are^stretching 
away  to  eternal  darkness  and  oblivion !  I  have  looked 
beyond  this  hour  to  the  future,  and  seen  such  sights  as 
mortal  eyes  have  seldom  seen.  This  fearful  gift  of  mad- 
MS  lifted  the  sable  veil  that  is  drawn  across  the  bor- 
ders  that  separate  the  things  of  the  present  from  those 
hat  are  to  come;  and  I  have  read  a  tale  that  none  of 
\rth  shall  read  without  a  shudder.  I  have  seen  a  father 

ying  plans  to  ruin  his  own  daughter ;  I  have  seen  as 

•ely  a  being  as  ever  was  shone  upon  by  the  sunlight  of 
en  made  the  victim  of  a  father's  unholy  passion  ;  and 
^ve  seen  that  woman  achieve  a  terrible  revenge,  by 
poisoning  her  sire." 

There  were  three  persons  in  the  group  who  were  ren- 
dered terribly  excited  by  the  words  of  the  madman, — 


168  THE   CKIMES   OF 

Borgia,  Count  Luanza,  and  Lucretia  Borgia.     They  all      » 
surrounded  him. 

The  madman  turned  to  the  count. 

"  To  you,"  said  he,  as  he  laid  his  hand  upon  his  arm, 
"  I  can  only  express  my  regrets  that  you  have  been  so 
fearfully  deceived.  The  woman  you  have  married  iias 
been  the  mistress  of  her  own  father." 

"  Liar  !  "  and  the  count  struck  him  to  the  floor  as  he 
spoke.  "  One  word  more  against  my  wife,  and  you  shall 
die ! " 

"My  words  are  true.  Nor  have  I  told  thee  all  her 
crimes.  Even  now,  this  very  hour,  she  has  administered 
poisoned  wine  to  Alexander  Borgia." 

The  Pope  turned  deathly  pale  at  this  announcement, 
and  his  limbs  trembled  beneath  him.  It  was  no  ordinary 
fear  that  now  took  possession  of  his  mind.  He  felt  as- 
sured, by  the  almost  devilish  look  of  triumph  that  rested 
upon  the  features  of  Zinna,  that  he  had  told  the  truth ; 
but  yet  he  did  not  know  how  he  had  become  cognizant  of 
it ;  it  was  a  madman's  mystery. 

"  Fiend  —  devil  in  the  guise  of  woman !  "  he  cried, 
"  has  this  man  spoken  the  truth  ?  " 

"  Ay,  as  truly  as  that  you  are  now  alive !  Alexander 
Borgia,  Pope  of  Rome,  you  have  taken  the  most  deadly 
poison  of  the  Borgias  —  ay,  the  very  wine  you  so  care- 
fully prepared  for  Cardinal  Corneto  !  " 


ALEXANDER   BORGIA.  169 

XI. 

CONCLUSION. 

THE  madman  had  gone  as  suddenly  as  he  came  —  no 
one  knew  when  or  where;  but  it  was  evident  that  the 
words  he  had  uttered  were  words  of  truth,  terrible  truth. 

It  was  a  singular  tableau,  that  formed  by  the  principal 
characters  he  left  behind  him,  —  the  Pope,  on  whose  mind 
was  just  beginning  to  flash,  like  lightning  over  a  stormy 
waste  of  waters,  the  terrible  consciousness  that  he  had 
been  poisoned ;  Count  Luanza,  upon  whose  jealous  mind 
was  just  dawning  the  conviction  that  the  woman  he  had 
wed,  and  the  one  he  loved  so  devotedly,  was  entirely  un- 
worthy of  his  affection ;  Donna  Lucretia,  whose  pale 
face  was  wreathed  with  a  smile  of  triumph ;  and  Father 
Janzcn,  who  had  arisen  from  the  table,  and  came  forward 
to  her  side,  and  was  secretl}'  endeavoring  to  remind  her, 
by  means  of  glances  and  pautomimical  gestures,  that  he 
desired  the  antidote  to  th$  poison  he  had  taken. 

"  Beautiful  devil !  She  has  spoken  the  truth.  I  am 
indeed  poisoned ;  I  can  feel  it  in  every  vein.  But  the 
antidote  —  the  antidote  —  " 

"  Is  here  !  "  cried  Donna  Lucretia,  as  she  drew  a  vial 
from  her  bosom  and  held  it  up  to  the  light.  "  Here  it  is  ; 
but  it  is  not  for  thee.  There  is  only  enough  for  one  !  " 

"  Give  it  to  me !  "  cried  Father  Janzen,  as  he  darted 
towards  her.  "You  said  that  you  would  save  my  life,  — 
that  you  would  not  let  me  die !  " 

"  Nor  will  I.  Lucretia  Borgia  never  will  forget  a 
wrong,  or  break  a  promise.  Here  —  drink  and  be  saved  !  " 

Borgia  darted  hastily  forward  to  secure  the  antidote  for 
15 


170  THE    CRIMES    OF 

himself;  but  he  was  too  late.  Lucretia  drew  her  dagger, 
and  placed  herself  before  him,  while  Father  Janzen  drained 
the  vial  of  its  contents. 

"  I  see  how  it  is !  "  cried  Borgia,  furiously.  "  Both  of 
you  have  plotted  against  me,  and  it  was  through  Father 
Janzen  that  the  poison  was  given  me.  Dog  !  you  shall  die 
for  this !  " 

The  infuriated  man  was  endowed  with  an  almost  super- 
human strength  by  the  desperation  of  the  moment.  He 
hurled  Donna  Lucretia  from  his  path  as  if  she  had  been  a 
mere  child,  and,  an  instant  later,  stood  face  to  face  with 
Father  Janzen,  with  his  dagger  in  his  grasp. 

The  struggle  that  ensued  was  short,  but  terrible.  The 
priest  had  seen  his  antagonist  approaching,  and  saw  that 
there  was  no  resource  for  him  but  to  draw  and  defend  him- 
self. He  drew  a  heavy  knife,  one  he  had  carried  for 
many  years,  and  warded  off  the  furious  blow  that  was 
aimed  at  his  heart ;  and  then  the  struggle  of  life  and 
death  was  fairly  begun. 

And  finished  almost  as  soon  as  begun,  —  and  fatally  ! 

For  each  had  sheathed  his  weapon  in  the  other's  bosom  : 

"  I  die,"  cried  Borgia,  as  he  sank  back  in  death,  with 
the  warm  blood  gushing  in  torrents  from  the  wound,  "  I 
die,  but  not  alone.  The  traitor  is  with  me,  and  I  am  con- 
tent !  " 

They  were  the  last  words  of  Alexander  Borgia ;  for 
even  as  they  were  finished  his  spirit  left  its  earthly  tene- 
ment forever. 

"Dead?"  gasped  Father  Janzen,  inquiringly,  as  he 
turned  over  on  his  side,  and  gazed  towards  his  late  enemy 
with  a  look  that  seemed  to  have  lost  none  of  its  philosoph- 


ALEXANDER  BORGIA.  171 

.^feal  calmness.  "  Dead  ?  Then  I  have  no  cause  to  com- 
plain of  fate,  even  if  I  do  not  survive  this  wound !  " 

"  Your  hand,"  cried  Donna  Lucretia  to  her  husband, 
vrho  now  stood  beside  her.  "You  now  know  what  my 
crimes  are  and  have  been  ;  and  if  you  are  ready  to  accept 
me  as  I  am,  I  swear  to  be  to  you  all  you  could  ask  a  wife 
to  be !  Your  hand !  and  even  here,  while  I  can  gaze 
upon  the  features  of  the  dead,  and  say  that  I  am  avenged. 
Your  hand  —  shall  I  have  it  here,  alike  for  the  present 
moment  and  all  coming  time  ?  " 

Slowly,  moodily,  and  with  an  evident  effort  of  his  mind, 
the  count  extended  his  hand. 

"  0,  thanks,"  cried  the  woman,  as  she  seized  it,  and 
covered  it  with  her  kisses.  "  Now  that  you  have  received 
me  as  your  wife,  I  shall  indeed  be  happy,  for  here  are 
ended  '  THE  CHIMES  OF  ALEXANDER  BORGIA.'  " 


Cnu  Rational 


GOD  AND  OUK  COUNTRY, -DEEDS,   NOT  WORDS! 


THE   KNOW-NOTHING 

AND 

guneritau  (tester. 

ISSUED      W  E  p;  K  L  Y  . 


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